Quotes About Society

That the young rich smell the stink of the poor and learn to find it a bit amusing. They had to laugh, otherwise it would be too terrifying.

You can't overestimate the stupidity of the general public.

the people are the biggest horror show on earth, have been for centuries.

Insanity is relative. Who sets the norm?

We're forced into absurd lives, against which the only sane response is to wage a guerrilla operation of humour and lust and madness.

madhouses are rarely on display.

they pulled Ezra through the streets in a wooden cage. Blake was sure of God. Villon was a mugger. Lorca sucked cock. T. S. Eliot worked a teller's cage

did you ever consider that lsd and color TV arrived for our consumption around the same time? Here comes all this explorative color pounding, and what do we do? we outlaw one and fuck up the other.

I wasn't sleeping on the streets at night. Of course, there were a lot of good people sleeping in the streets. They weren't fools, they just didn't fit into the needed machinery of the moment. And those needs kept altering.

your best men are drunks and your worst men are locking them up, your best men are killers and your worst men are selling them bullets

She would have been a better fuck in Greece, maybe. America was a shitty place to fuck.

Are you sick now? No. Then what's wrong? I don't like people. Do you think that's right? Probably not.

What were doctors, lawyers, scientists? They were just men who allowed themselves to be deprived of their freedom to think and act as individuals.

Lawyers, doctors, plumbers, they all made the money. writers? writers starved. writers suicided. writers went mad.

She made the same money in ten minutes that I had made in a day with some hours thrown in. Monetarily speaking, it seemed sure as shit you were better off having a pussy than a cock.

If there's anything worse than a whore it's a bore.

We've each given the hours of our lives in dull rote jobs for other men's profit, and have been asked to be grateful for doing that.

I sat back down and poured a glass of wine. I left my door open. The moonlight came in with the sounds of the city: juke boxes, automobiles, curses, dogs barking, radios . . . We were all in it together. We were all in one big shit pot together. There was no escape. We were all going to be flushed away.

you have to accept this reality as the madhouse walls bulge break and the terrified insane flood our ugly streets. you have to accept terrible reality.

all the poets wanted to get disability insurance it was better than immortality.

I see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead: men without eyes, men without voices; men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions; men with newspaper brains, television souls and high school ideals.

we are worn-down, hope stamped out. We reach for coffee cups like the robots about to replace us.

Now, I thought, pushing my cart along, I have this job. Is this to be it? No wonder men robbed banks. There were too many demeaning jobs. Why the hell wasn't I a superior court judge or a concert pianist? Because it took training and training cost money. But I didn't want to be anything anyhow. And I was certainly succeeding

The life of the sane, average man was dull, worse than death. There seemed to be no possible alternative. Education also seemed to be a trap. The little education I had allowed myself had made me more suspicious. What were doctors, lawyers, scientists? They were just men who allowed themselves to be deprived of their freedom to think and act as individuals. I went back to my shack and drank ...