David Mitchell Quotes - Page 3

A volley of hailstones began abruptly, filled the woods with a frenzied percussion & ended on the sudden.

Birdsong foamed in the hour-before-dawn garden.

Fantasy. Lunacy.
All revolutions are, until they happen, then they are historical inevitabilities.

A book can’t be a half-fantasy any more than a woman can be half pregnant

All these people like my mother paying counselors and clinics to reattach them to reality; all of us people here paying Sony and Sega to reattach us to unreality.

Always, it is the poor people who pay. And always, it is the poor people's women who pay the most.

Have you noticed," said John, "how countries call theirs 'sovereign nuclear deterrents,' but call the other countries' ones 'weapons of mass destruction'?

On bad days you wonder, ‘Why not just back off from the war and lead a quiet metalife?

As if Art is the What, not the How!

Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an' tho' a cloud's shape nor hue nor size don't stay the same, it's still a cloud an' so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud's blowed from or who the soul'll be 'morrow? Only Sonmi the east an' the west an' the compass an' the atlas, yay, only the atlas o' clouds.

Try this for deviancy: fabricants are mirrors held up to purebloods' conscience; what purebloods see reflected there sickens them. So they blame you for holding the mirror."

I hid my shock by asking when purebloods might blame themselves.

Mephi replied, "History suggests, not until they are made to.

The double-crossed, might-have-been history of my country is not the study of what actually took place here: it's the study of historians' studies. . . .
Memories are their own descendants masquerading as the ancestors of the present.

La paz es como el cristal: si se golpea repetidamente, termina mostrando su fragilidad.

¡Y cuando exhales el último suspiro, sólo entonces, te darás cuenta de que tu vida no ha sido más que una minúscula gota en un océano infinito!
Y sin embargo, ¿qué es un océano sino una multitud de gotas?

I find a certain comfort," confesses Marinus, "in humanity's helplessness.

science devises ever bloodier means of war until humanity’s powers of destruction overcome our powers of creation and our civilisation drives itself to extinction.

I have always unswervingly held, that God, in our civilizing world, manifests Himself not in the miracles of biblical age, but in progress. It is progress that leads humanity up the ladder towards the God-head. No Jacob's ladder this, no, but rather Civilization's Ladder, if you will.

. . .my dreams are the single unpredictable factor in my zoned days and nights. Nobody allots them, or censors them. Dreams are all I have ever truly owned.

I wonder who had the first computer dream, where, and when? I wonder if computers ever dream of humans.

One writes music because winter is eternal and because, if one didn't, the wolves and blizzards will be at one's throat all the sooner.