Ken Kesey Quotes - Page 4

The Republican consciousness has no integrity and it falls apart once you check it out. If you're a Christian, why would you want to fry this dude?

Now, you’re either on the bus or you’re off the bus.

What the Chronics are - or most of us - are machines with flaws inside that can't be repaired, flaws born in, or flaws beat in over so many years of the guy running head-on into solid things that by the time the hospital found him he was bleeding rust in some vacant lot.

There’s no doubt in my mind that McMurphy’s won, but I’m not sure what.

I lay in bed the night before the fishing trip and thought it over, about my being deaf, about the years of not letting on I heard what was said, and I wonder if I can ever act any other way again. But I remembered one thing: it wasn't me that started acting deaf; it was people that first started acting like I was too dumb to hear or see or say anything at all.

When Shakespeare was writing, he wasn't writing for stuff to lie on the page; it was supposed to get up and move around.

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

The frontiers we broke into in the '60s are still largely unexplored.

I believe that a man should be... as big as he feels it in him to be!

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.

The Grateful Dead are faster than light drive.

The '60s aren't over; they won't be over until the Fat Lady gets high.

He was in his chair in the corner, resting a second before he came out for the next round -- in a long line of next rounds. The thing he was fighting, you couldn't whip it for good. All you could do was keep on whipping it, till you couldn't come out anymore and somebody else had to take your place.

I've been to too many Dead concerts. There've been smokin' holes where my memory used to be.

The best of all possible cages.' Ben stepped back to regard the job with a sad smile. 'What more can one ask?

High high in the hills , high in a pine tree bed. She's tracing the wind with that old hand, counting the clouds with that old chant, Three geese in a flock one flew east one flew west one flew over the cuckoo's nest