Quotes from Richard Brautigan

There are not too many fables about man's misuse of sunflower seeds.

Put the coffee on, bubbles, I'm coming home

We could see the children's toys here and there, and we saw a game that the children had made themselves out of dirt, deer antlers and abalone shells, but the game was so strange that only children could tell what it was. Perhaps it wasn't a game at all, only the grave of a game.

We call everything a river here. We are that kind of people.

With the rain falling surgically against the roof, I ate a dish of ice cream that looked like Kafka's hat. It was a dish of ice cream tasting like an operating table with the patient staring up at the ceiling.

I read the note and it did not please me and I threw it away, so not even time could find it.

The voyage from San Francisco to Hawaii had been the most terrifying experience Greer and Cameron had ever gone through, even more terrible than the time they shot a deputy sheriff in Idaho ten times and he wouldn't die and Greer finally had to say to the deputy sheriff, Please die because we don't want to shoot you again. And the deputy sheriff had said, Ok, I'll die, but don't shoot me again. We won't shoot you again, Cameron had said. Ok, I'm dead, and he was.

Once upon a time there was a dwarf knight who only had fifty words to live in and they were so fleeting that he only had time to put on a suit of armor and ride swiftly on a black horse into a very well-lit woods where he vanished forever.

The old woman had an old dog, but he hardly counted any more. He was so old that he looked like a stuffed dog. Once I took him for a walk down to the store. It was just like taking a stuffed dog for a walk. I tied him up to a stuffed fire hydrant and he pissed on it, but it was only stuffed piss.

She wore a loose bathrobe that covered up a body that would have won first prize in a beauty contest for cement blocks.....She had a voice that made pearl harbour sound like a lullaby.

THE NECESSITY OF APPEARING IN YOUR OWN FACE There are days when that is the last place in the world that you want to be but you have to be there, like a movie, because it -----features you.

The 1960s: A lot of people remember hating President Lyndon Baines Johnson and loving Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison, depending on the point of view. God rest their souls.

Yukiko rolled over. That plain, that simple. Her body was small in its moving. And her hair followed, dreaming her as she moved. A cat, her cat, in bed with her was awakened by her moving, and watched her turn slowly over in bed. When she stopped moving, the cat went back to sleep. It was a black cat and could have been a suburb of her hair.

Je reste des heures entières debout au même endroit, presque sans bouger (j'ai même vu le vent s'arrêter dans ma main)

I like to think (it has to be!) of a cybernetic ecology where we are free of our labors and joined back to nature, returned to our mammal brothers and sisters, and all watched over by machines of loving grace.

I daydream about a high school where everybody plays the harmonica: the students, the teachers, the principal, the janitor and the cook in the cafeteria.

She had a beautiful laugh which was like rain water pouring over daffodils made from silver.

There is darkness on your lantern and pumpkins in your wind. and Oh, they clutter up your mind with their senseless bumping while your heart is like a sea gull frozen into a long distance telephone call. I'd like to take the darkness off your lantern and change the pumpkins into sky fields of ordered comets and disconnect the refrigerator telephone that frightens your heart into standing still.

The river loved to tell everybody (everybody being the sky, the wind, the few trees that grew around there, birds, deer and even the stars if you can believe that) what a great river it was. I come roaring from the earth and return roaring to the earth. I am the master of my waters. I am the mother and father of myself. I don't need a single drop of rain. Look at my smooth strong white muscles. I am my own future!

Hands are very nice things, especially after they have travelled back from making love.

Let us pretend that my mind is a taxi... and suddenly you are riding in it.

USED TROUT STREAM FOR SALE. MUST BE SEEN TO BE APPRECIATED.

The Forgotten Works just go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. You get the picture. It's a big place, much bigger than we are.

The flies were teaching an advanced seminar in philosophy as they crawled up the crack of my ass