Quote
"Western Civilizations second unsuccessful attempt to commit suicide."
"I will say, too, that lovemaking, if sincere, is one of the best ideas Satan put in the apple she gave to the serpent to give to Eve. The best idea in that apple, though, is making jazz."

Timequake is a 1997 semi-autobiographical work by Kurt Vonnegut. Marketed as a novel, the book was described as a "stew" by Vonnegut, in which he summarizes a novel he had been struggling with for a number of years.
"Western Civilizations second unsuccessful attempt to commit suicide."
"Listen: We are here on Earth to fart around. Dont let anybody tell you any different!"
"You want to know why I don’t have AIDS, why Im not HIV-positive like so many other people? I don’t fuck around. It’s as simple as that."
"Those artsy-fartsy twerps next door create living, breathing, three-dimensional characters with ink on paper. … As though the planet weren’t already dying because it has three billion too many living, breathing, three-dimensional characters."
"If your brains were dynamite, there wouldn’t be enough to blow your hat off."
"If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don’t have nerve enough to be a homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts."
"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."
"yes is a pleasant country... love is a deeper season than reason"
"true lovers in each happening of their hearts live longer than all which and every who"
"What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way."
"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flower Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!"
"Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at others Wanings shouldst thou fret? Then only mightst thou feel a just regret, Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light In selfish forethought of neglect and slight."