Kurt Vonnegut (Writer)
[When Vonnegut tells his wife he's going out to buy an envelope] Oh, she says, well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I'm going to have a hell of a in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of . And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask awhat kind ofthat is. And, and I don't know. The moral of the story is, is we're here onto fart around. And, of course, thewill do us out of that. And, what the computer people don't realize, or they don't care, is we're dancing . You know, weto move around. And, we're not supposed toat all anymore. — Kurt Vonnegut art Here it was again, the most ancient of roadforks, one that Paul had glimpsed before, in Kroner's study, months ago. The choice of one course or the other had nothing to do with machines, hierarchies, economics, love, age. It was a purely internal matter. Every child older than six knew the fork, and knew what the good guys did here, and what the bad guys did here. The fork was a familiar one in folk tales the world over, and the good guys and the bad guys, whether in chaps, breechclouts, serapes, leopardskins, or banker's gray pinstripes, all separated here.Bad guys turned informer. Good guys didn't — no matter when, no matter what. — Kurt Vonnegut love Drawn crudely in the dust of three window-panes were a swastika, a hammer and sickle, and the Stars and Stripes. I had drawn the threeweeks before, at the conclusion of an argument aboutwith Kraft. I had given a hearty cheer for each symbol, demonstrating to Kraft the meaning of patriotism to, respectively, a , a , and an . "Hooray, hooray, hooray," I'd said. — Kurt Vonnegut art Iyou sons of bitches. You’re all I read any more. You're the only ones who’ll talk all about the really terrificgoing on, the only ones crazy enough to know that life is a space voyage, and not a short one, either, but one that’ll last for billions of years. You’re the only ones with guts enough to really care about the , who really notice whatdo to us, whatdo to us, whatdo to us, what big, simple ideas do to us, what tremendous misunderstanding, , accidents, catastrophes do to us. You're the only ones zany enough to agonize overand distance without limit, overthat will never , over thethat we are right now determining whether thevoyage for the next billion years or so is going to beor . — Kurt Vonnegut life
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