Best 184 of Ken Kesey quotes - MyQuotes

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Ken Kesey
By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

But the more I read... after awhile... I begin to find they were all writing about the same thing, this same dull old here-today-gone-tomorrow scene... Shakespeare, Milton, Matthew Arnold, even Baudelaire, even this cat whoever he was that wrote Beowulf... the same scene for the same reasons and to the same end, whether it was Dante with his pit or Baudelaire with his pot... the same dull old scene...

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

The fundamentalists have taken the fun out of the mental.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

I'd rather be a lightning rod than a seismograph.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

He knows that you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just to keep the world from running you plumb crazy.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

Because he knows you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just to keep the world from running you plumb crazy. He knows there's a painful side; he knows my thumb smarts and his girlfriend has a bruised breast and the doctor is losing his glasses, but he won't let the pain blot out the humor no more'n he'll let the humor blot out the pain.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

The truth doesn't have to do with cruelty, the truth has to do with mercy.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

It's time to move on to the next step in the psychedelic revolution. We've reached a certain point, but we're not moving any more.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

The Grateful Dead are our religion. This is a religion that doesn't pay homage to the God that all the other religions pay homage to.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

You can't blame the President for the state of the country, it's always the poets' fault. You can't expect politicians to come up with a vision, they don't have it in them. Poets have to come up with the vision and they have to turn it on so it sparks and catches hold.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Ken Kesey

That first day still came about as close to undoing me completely, both physically and mentally, as any day had in almost a week.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

I indulged in certain practices that our society regards as shameful. And I got sick. It wasn’t the practices, I don’t think, it was the feeling that the great, deadly, pointing forefinger of society was pointing at me — and the great voice of millions chanting, ‘Shame. Shame. Shame.’ It’s society’s way of dealing with someone different.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

Time overlaps itself. A breath breathed from a passing breeze is not the whole wind, neither is it just the last of what has passed and the first of what will come, but is more--let me see--more like a single point plucked on a single strand of a vast spider web of winds, setting the whole scene atingle. That way; it overlaps ... as prehistoric ferns grow from bathtub planters.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

Fascism wants Baptism coast to coast.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

It's fogging a little, but I won't slip off and hide in it. No...never again...

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

I'd take a look at my own self in the mirror and wonder how it was possible that anybody could manage such an enormous thing as being what he was.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

The man who seeks revenge digs two graves.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

To hell with facts! We need stories.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Ken Kesey

They didn’t mind so much when I was a dumb logger and got into a hassle; that’s excusable, they say, that’s a hard-workin’ feller blowing off steam, they say. But if you’re a gambler, if they know you to get up a back-room game now and then, all you have to do is spit slantwise and you’re a goddamned criminal.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

In any given situation there will always be more dumb people than smart people. We ain't many!

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

His whole body shakes with the strain as he tries to lift something he knows he can't lift, something everybody knows he can't lift. But, for just a second, when we hear the cement grind at our feet, we think, by golly, he might do it.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

The world news might not be therapeutic.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

But if the strength ain't real, I recall thinking the very last thing that day, before I finally passed out, then the weakness sure enough is. Weakness is true and real. I used to accuse the kid of faking his weakness. But faking proves the weakness is real. Or you wouldn't be so weak as to fake it. No, you can't ever fake being weak. You can only fake being strong. . .

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

Then the trembling starts to get worse. This must be how they begin, he thinks. Freak-outs. Breakdowns. Crack-ups. Eventually shut-ins and finally cross-offs. But first the cover-up . . .

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

You don't lead by pointing and telling people some place to go. You lead by going to that place and making a case.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

He knew you can't really be strong until you can see a funny side of things.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

There's no disgrace in failing, lad, Though friends and foes deride; In fact, a failure's not so bad As never having tried.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Ken Kesey

Something moved on the grounds down beneath my window — cast a long spider of shadow out across the grass as it ran out of sight behind a hedge. When it ran back to where I could get a better look, I saw it was a dog, a young, gangly mongrel slipped off from home to find out about things went on after dark. He was sniffing digger squirrel holes, not with a notion to go digging after one but just to get an idea what they were up to at this hour. He’d run his muzzle down a hole, butt up in the air and tail going, then dash off to another. The moon glistened around him on the wet grass, and when he ran he left tracks like dabs of dark paint spattered across the blue shine of the lawn. Galloping from one particularly interesting hole to the next, he became so took with what was coming off — the moon up there, the night, the breeze full of smells so wild makes a young dog drunk — that he had to lie down on his back and roll. He twisted and thrashed around like a fish, back bowed and belly up, and when he got to his feet and shook himself a spray came off him in the moon like silver scales.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

Loved. You can't use it in the past tense. Death does not stop that love at all.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

But I tried, didn't I? Goddamnit, at least I did that.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

If you're a Conservative, why aren't you behind conserving the land?

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

When we first broke into that forbidden box in the other dimension, we knew we had discovered something as surprising and powerful as the New World when Columbus came stumbling onto it.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

He’s like an old clock the won’t tell time but won’t stop neither with the hands bend out of shape and the face bare of numbers and the alarm rusted silent, an old worthless clock that keeps ticking and cuckooing without meaning nothing.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

I'm accustomed to being top man. I been a bull goose catskinner for every gyppo logging operation in the Northwest and bull goose gambler all the way from Korea, was even bull goose pea weeder on that pea farm at Pendleton -- so I figure if I'm bound to be a loony, then I'm bound to be a stompdown dadgum good one.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

I felt like you can write forever, but you have a short time to raise a family. And I think a family is a lot more important than writing.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Ken Kesey

I realized I still had my eyes shut. I had shut them when I put my face to the screen, like I was scared to look outside. Now I had to open them. I looked out the window and saw for the first time how the hospital was out in the country. The moon was low in the sky over the pastureland; the face of it was scarred and scuffed where it had just torn up out of the snarl of scrub oak and madrone trees on the horizon. The stars up close to the moon were pale; they got brighter and braver the farther they got out of the circle of light ruled by the giant moon. I was off on a hunt with Papa and the uncles and I lay rolled in blankets Grandma had woven, lying off a piece from where the men hunkered around the fire as they passed a quart jar of cactus liquor in a silent circle. I watched that big Oregon prairie moon above me put all the stars around it to shame. I kept awake watching, to see if the moon ever got dimmer or the stars got brighter, till the dew commenced to drift onto my cheeks and I had to pull a blanket over my head.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

See with your ears and hear with your eyes.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

I've never seen crack or a lot of these new drugs. Don't know anything about them. I don't know what they do for you, or whether they do anything good for you or not. But I do still have a lot of faith in the spiritual purity of LSD and pot.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

Allen Ginsberg is a tremendous warrior as time goes by. He's a warrior first and a poet second.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

People think love is an emotion. Love is good sense.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

Men are forever eager to press drink upon those they consider their superiors, hoping thereby to eliminate that distinction between them.... And women, when confronted by superiors, substitute for drink the crippling liquor of their sex.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

They did type me as a horror writer, but I have been able to do all sorts of things within that framework.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

There's something about taking a plow and breaking new ground. It gives you energy.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Ken Kesey

Society is what decides who's sane and who isn't, so you got to measure up.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

Along the western slopes of the Oregon Coastal Range . . . come look: the hysterical crashing of tributaries as they merge into the Wakonda Auga River . . .

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

Plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

This world belongs to the strong, my friend! The ritual of our existence is based on the strong getting stronger by devouring the weak. We must face up to this. No more than right that it should be this way. We must learn to accept it as a law of the natural world. The rabbits accept their role in the ritual and recognize the wolf as the strong. In defense, the rabbit becomes sly and frightened and elusive and he digs holes and hides when the wolf is about. And he endures, he goes on. He knows his place. He most certainly doesn't challenge the wolf to combat. Now, would that be wise? Would it?

By Anonym 14 Sep

Ken Kesey

LSD lets you in on something. When you're tripping, the idea of race disappears; the idea of sex disappears; you don't even know what species you are sometimes. And I don't know of anybody who hasn't come back from that being more humane, more thoughtful, more understanding.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Ken Kesey

You're making sense, old man, a sense of your own. You're not crazy the way they think. Yes...I see.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Ken Kesey

But he won’t let the pain blot out the humor no more’n he’ll let the humor blot out the pain.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Ken Kesey

(Página 45) "A enfermaria zumbe da maneira como ouvi uma fábrica de tecido zumbir uma vez, quando o time de futebol jogou com a escola secundária na Califórnia. Depois de uma boa temporada, s promotores da cidade estavam tão orgulhosos e exaltados que pagavam para que fôssemos de avião até a Califórnia para disputar um campeonato de escolas secundárias com o time de lá. Quando chegamos à cidade tivemos de visitar um indústria local qualquer. Nosso treinador era um daqueles dados a convencer as pessoas de que o atletismo era educativo por causa do aprendizado proporcionado pelas viagens, e em todas as viagens que fazíamos ele carregava com o time para visitar fábricas de laticínios, fazendas de plantação de beterraba e fábricas de conservas, antes do jogo . Na Califórnia foi uma fábrica de tecido. Quando entramos na fábrica, a maior parte do time deu uma olhada rápida e saiu para ir sentar-se no ônibus e jogar pôquer em cima das malas, mas eu fiquei lá dentro numa canto, fora do caminho das moças negras que corriam de um lado para o outro entre as fileiras de máquinas. A fábrica me colocou numa espécie de sonho, todos aqueles zumbidos e estalos a chocalhar de gente e de máquinas sacudindo-se em espasmos regulares. Foi por isso que eu fiquei quando todos os outros se foram, por isso e porque aquilo me lembrou de alguma forma os homens da tribo que haviam deixado a aldeia nos últimos dias para ir trabalhar na trituradora de pedras para a represa. O padrão frenético, os rostos hipnotizados pela rotina... eu queria ir com o time, mas não pude. Era de manhã, no princípio do inverno, e eu ainda usava a jaqueta que nos deram quando ganhamos o campeonato - uma jaqueta vermelha e verde com mangas de couro e um emblema com o formato de uma bola de futebol bordado nas costas, dizendo o que havíamos vencido - e ela estava fazendo com que uma porção de moças negras olhassem. Eu a tirei , mas elas continuaram olhando. Eu era muito maior naquela época. " (Página 46) "Uma das moças afastou-se de sua máquina e olhou para um lado e para o outro das passagens entre as máquinas, para ver se o capataz estava por perto, depois veio até onde eu estava. Perguntou se íamos jogar na escola secundária naquela noite e me disse que tinha um irmão que jogava como zagueiro para eles. Falamos um pouco a respeito do futebol e coisas assim, e reparei como o rosto dela parecia indistinto, como se houvesse uma névoa entre nós dois. Era a lanugem de algodão pairando no ar. Falei-lhe a respeito da lanugem. Ela revirou os olhos e cobriu a boca com a mão, para rir, quando eu lhe disse como era parecido com o olhar o seu rosto numa manhã enevoada de caça ao pato. E ela disse : " Agora me diga para que é que você quereria nesse bendito mundo estar sozinho comigo lá fora, numa tocaia de pato ?" Disse-lhe que ela poderia tomar de conta da minha arma, e as moças começaram a rir com a boca escondida atrás das mãos na fábrica inteira. Eu também ri um pouco, vendo como havia parecido inteligente. Anda estávamos conversando e rindo quando ela agarrou meus pulsos e os apertou com as mãos. Os traços do seu rosto de repente se acentuaram num foco radioso; vi que ela estava aterrorizada por alguma coisa. - Leve-me - disse ela num murmúrio - Leve-me mesmo garotão. Para fora desta fábrica aqui, para fora desta cidade, para fora desta vida. Me leva para uma tocaia de pato qualquer, num lugar qualquer . Num outro lugar qualquer. Hem garotão, hem ?