Philip K. Dick Quotes
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Insanity - to have to construct a picture of one's life, by making inquiries of others.
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When I believe, I am crazy. When I don't believe, I suffer psychotic depression.
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It is amazing that when someone else spouts the nonsense you yourself believe you can readily perceive it as nonsense.
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Reality, by itself, becomes a story by Philip K. Dick.
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An EEG of a person watching TV shows that after about half an hour the brain decides that nothing is happening, and it goes into a hypnoidal twilight state, emitting alpha waves. This is because there is such little eye motion.
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Crazy people do not apply the principle of scientific parsimony... they shoot for the baroque.
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'Maybe his characteristics are recessive. Maybe ours will cancel his out.' 'I wouldn't lay any money on that,' Baines said. 'I think I know already which of the two strains is going to turn up dominant.' He grinned wryly. 'I mean, I'm making a good guess. It won't be us.'
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How can I join one of the parties? All their slogans and propaganda, it seems so damn - silly. How the hell can I get exited about clean teeth and underarm odor. People kill each other over these trifles... it doesn't make sense. There's going to be suicidal civil war, if that amendment passes, and I'm supposed to join one side or the other?
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I will never fully understand; that is the nature of such creatures. Or is this Inner Truth now, this that is happening to me? I will wait. I will see. Which it is. Perhaps it is both.
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'Isn’t there any way-' He broke off. Can’t the past be altered? he asked himself. Evidently not. Cause and effect work in only one direction, and change is real. So what’s gone is gone, and I might as well get out of here.
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'Time to get up,' he informed her. 'Don’t you hear the Almighty bellowing in the living room?''What’s he saying?' Marsha murmured crossly.'Nothing in particular. Repent or suffer eternal damnation. The usual tribal tub-thumping.'
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Spinoza saw... that if a falling stone could reason, it would think, 'I want to fall at the rate of thirty-two feet per second.'
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The emotional masses of ordinary people who resented the Great Work, the bombs and bacteria and guided missiles, were coming to the surface. The were rising up - finally. Putting an end to super-logic: rationality without responsibility.
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He glared at her. Women can get a man to do anything, he realized. Mother, wife, even employee; they twist us like hot little bits of thermoplastic.
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'You of all people,' the void communicated. 'Out of everyone, it is you I love the most.'
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The Martians are always coming.
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If I had known it was harmlessI would have killed it myself.
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Ramp hawkers were peddling 'methods,' low priced sure-fire theories guaranteed to predict bottle twitches and beat the whole Minimax game. The hawkers were ignored by the hurrying throngs of people; anybody with a genuine system of prediction would be using it, not selling it.
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'A philosophical problem of no importance or meaning,' Joe said. 'And incapable of being proved one way or the other.'
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Somebody high up was toying with the idea of allowing them to breed. Some sort of industrial use. We withheld euth for years. But Cris Johnson stayed alive outside our control. Those things at Denver were under constant scrutiny.
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My major preoccupation is the question, 'What is reality?' Many of my stories and novels deal with psychotic states or drug-induced states by which I can present the concept of a multiverse rather than a universe. Music and sociology are themes in my novels, also radical political trends; in particular I've written about fascism and my fear of it.
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It was evident to Elias Tate that this was the government. First they shake hands with you, he thought, and then they murder you.
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A psychologist said, 'They used to talk about seeing only ‘reflections’ of reality. Not reality itself. The main thing wrong with a reflection is not that it isn’t real, but that it’s reversed.'
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He now set down all the communications apparatus, rose stiffly from the chair and momentarily stood facing the misty, immobile, icebound shape of Joe Chip resting within its transparent plastic casket. Upright and silent, as it would be for the rest of eternity.