Ken Kesey Quotes

She likes a rigged game.

Even a man who is pure of heart And says his prayers at night May turn to a wolf when the wolfbane blooms And the autumn moon is bright.

How, the moon whispered, can you be sure it is lost? Until you try to find it?

I take my stand behind the human heart, not alongside violence . . . ... Not be right or wrong or good or bad, just be pulling. In a minute the idiots won’t even be listening, they’ll just be pulling....

I was seeing him different than when he first came in; I was seeing more to him than just big hands and red sideburns and a broken-nosed grin. I'd see him do things that didn't fit with his face or ha...

I'd give something to see that. Mostly, I'd just to look over the country around the gorge again, just to bring some of it clear in my mind again. I been away a long time.

Tingle, ting-le, tang-le toes, she’s a good fisherman, catches hens, puts ’em inna pens…wire blier, limber lock, three geese inna flock…one flew east, one flew west, one flew over the cuckoo’s nest…O-...

Viv feels the hand go bloodless and numb against her neck; startled, she turns to look at his face. There is no expression at all. For a moment he is gone from his face, as though he had fallen somewh...

What do you think? Harding says. McMurphy starts. She’s got one hell of a set of chabobs, is all he can think of. Big as Old Lady Ratched’s. I didn’t mean physically, my friend, I mean what do you— He...

What makes people so impatient is what I can't figure; all the guy had to do was wait.

When this is all over, I told myself, you will hate yourself for wasting so much time . .

Whoever comes in the door is usually disappointing, but there is always a chance otherwise. And when a key hits the lock, all the heads come up like there's strings on them.

You get your visions through whatever gate you're granted.

You might hide in some Freudian jungle most of your miserable life, baying at the moon and shouting curses at God, but at the end, right down there at the damned end when it counts... you would sure a...

And as this need grows more intense so does a sensation of movement, speed to come, impending declaration—The past is funny, Viv; it never seems to let things lie, finished. It never seems to stay in...

But mostly, I guess, I want to really mean something to somebody,

Damn this world that just won’t hold still for us!

Making it more than what it is lessens it. Just to see it clear is plenty.

Wy, dziwki, nawet sie nie pchajcie, chyba ze macie cycki jak melony i mocne, zgrabne, biale nogi dostatecznie dlugie, zeby owinac nimi jego potezne plecy, a cipy gorace, soczyste i slodkie jak miod...

. .sometimes reading the same page over and over, until one sleepy afternoon something clicked, like a lock unlocking, and she saw those printed doors swing open on a vast house of words.