Philip K. Dick Quotes
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They think they are free because they have never been free, and do not know what it means.
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That is the artist's job: take mineral rock from dark silent earth, transform it into shining light-reflecting form from sky.
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For Mercer everything is easy, he thought, because Mercer accepts everything. Nothing is alien to him. But what I’ve done, he thought; that’s become alien to me. In fact everything has become unnatural; I’ve become an unnatural self.
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That was my problem then and it's my problem now; I have a bad attitude. In a nutshell, I fear authority but at the same time I resent it - the authority and my own fear - so I rebel. And writing SF is a way to rebel. … SF is a rebellious art form and it needs writers and readers and bad attitudes - an attitude of 'Why?' or 'How come?' or 'Who says?'
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To fight the Empire is to be infected by its derangement … Whoever defeats the Empire becomes the Empire; it proliferates like a virus … thereby it becomes its enemies.
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The hell with the newspapers. Nobody reads the letters to the editor column except the nuts. It's enough to get you down.
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In 1955, when I'd write a science-fiction novel, I'd set it in the year 2000. I realised around 1977 that, 'My God, it's getting exactly like those novels we used to write in the 1950s!' Everything's just turning out to be real.
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Where there’s dope, there’s hope!
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In this dark world where he now dwelt, ugly things and surprising things and once in a long while a tiny wondrous thing spilled out at him constantly; he could count on nothing.
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The two basic topics which fascinate me are 'What is reality?' and 'What constitutes the authentic human being?'
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'Are you an official of some kind? Like a greeter? Or from the L. A. Chamber of Commerce? I've had dealings with them and they’re all right.''No,' Buckman said. 'I'm an individual. Like you.'
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'Is it my fault?' Joe said. 'Did I make that quarter you gave me obsolete?' He felt anger.'In some weird way,' Al said, 'yes, it is your fault. But I don’t know how. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out.'
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So that’s that, Barney said to himself. I violated Rule One of career-oriented functioning: never tell your superior something he doesn’t want to hear.
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The hell with him, he thought bitterly. The hell with patriotism in general. In the specific and the abstract. Birds of a feather, soldiers and cops. Anti-intellectual and anti-Negro. Anti-everything except beer, dogs, cars and guns.
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Cris didn't play fair. He had watched half an hour - then come out and thrown once. One perfect toss, one dead ringer.
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I think that, like in my writing, reality is always a soap bubble, Silly Putty thing anyway. In the universe people are in, people put their hands through the walls, and it turns out they're living in another century entirely. … I often have the feeling - and it does show up in my books - that this is all just a stage.
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Skill is a function of chance. It’s an intuitive best-use of chance situations.
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I am one of the elect, one of the few in the know, in the gnosis.
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This time, there was no punishment from above. Sighing, Hamilton almost wished there had been; the capricious personality element infuriated him. There was just too little relationship between deed and punishment; the lightning was probably cutting down some totally innocent Cheyennite, on the far side of town.
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Each of us assumes everyone else knows what HE is doing. They all assume we know what WE are doing. We don't … Nothing is going on and nobody knows what it is. Nobody is concealing anything except the fact that he does not understand anything anymore and wishes he could go home.
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An Irishman hears that the banks are failing. He runs into the bank where he keeps his money and demands every cent of it. 'Yes sir,' the teller says politely. 'Do you want it in cash or in the form of a check?' The Irishman replies: 'Well, if you have it, I don't want it. But if you haven't got it, I must have it immediately.'
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'You are certain you can keep the truth from her?' 'Sure,' Ed said confidently. 'I know I can.' 'All right.' The Old Man nodded slowly. 'I will send you back. But you must tell no one.' He swelled visibly. 'Remember: you will eventually come back to me - everyone does, in the end - and your fate will not be enviable.'
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We have entered a Moment when we are alone. We cannot get assistance, as before. Well, Mr. Tagomi thought, perhaps that too is good. Or can be made good. One must still try to find the Way.
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To live is to be hunted.