The Crying of Lot 49

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...old fillings in her teeth began to bother her. She would spend nights staring at a ceiling lit by the pink glow of San Narciso's sky. Other night she could sleep for eighteen drugged hours and wake, enervated, hardly able to stand...

...we of all magical precipitates out of Europe's groaning, clouded alembic, we are the thinest, the most dangerous, the handiest to secular uses... we tried to exterminate our Indians, like you: we wanted the closed white version of reality we got- but even into the smokiest labyrinths, the furthest stacked density of midday balcony or courtyard and gate, the land has never let us forget...

...look out the window, and doesn't this remind you of when you were in the boat... and then later that night, you were lying, looking up at the ceiling, and the water in your head was not dissimilar from the landscape, and you think to yourself, 'why is it that the landscape is moving, but the boat is still?'...

...Sometimes at dusk, when you were trying to relax and not think of the general stagnation, the Garbage God would gather a handful of those choked-off morning hopes and dangle them somewhere just out of reach; they would hang in the breeze and make a sound like delicate glass bells, reminding you of something you never quite got hold of, and never would. It was a maddening image, and the only way to whip it was to hang on until dusk and banish the ghosts with rum...

...In this conception of consciously formed reality finite limits on the nature of our schema halt the further assimilation of external stimulus. Thus all subjective representations of the objective universe can only ever go part of the way to attaining a true tautology of semblance. In a universe of varying types of consciousness, as evolved in the various central nervous systems on this planet, this problem of semblance can be some way overcome. Distinct consciousnesses will form different schema to represent the same stimulus...

...Life has no genuine intrinsic worth, but is kept in motion merely by want and illusion...
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