William S. Burroughs Ipsum

After a shooting spree, they always want to take the guns away from the people who didn't do it. i sure as hell wouldn't want to live in a society where the only people allowed guns are the police and the military. most of the trouble in this world has been caused by folks who can't mind their own business, because they have no business of their own to mind, any more than a smallpox virus has. in deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality. smash the control images. smash the control machine. a paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. a psychotic is a guy who's just found out what's going on. if i had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes. there couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. how i hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity. little raspy incurving hooks beating at it with his fists... and grow there. and the whole head... would have amputated spontaneously and infiltrated and atrophied. so, the brain couldn't the silent, helpless suffering.

Language is a virus from outer space. nothing is true, everything is permitted. i don't care if people hate my guts; i assume most of them do. the important question is whether they are in a position to do anything about it. your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer. you were not there for the beginning. you will not be there for the end. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. there couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. to be an outlaw you must first have a base in law to reject and get out of, i never had such a base. i never had a place i could call home that meant any more than a key to a house, apartment or hotel room. ... am i alien? alien from what exactly? perhaps my home is my dream city, more real than my waking life precisely because it has no relation to waking life... as a young child i wanted to be a writer because writers were rich and famous. they lounged around singapore and rangoon smoking opium in a yellow pongee silk suit. they sniffed cocaine in mayfair and they penetrated forbidden swamps with a faithful native boy and lived in the native quarter of tangier smoking hashish and languidly caressing a pet gazelle. in the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents. nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen. and started eating. and sticking candles up it, but... all over his mouth. he would tear it off his mouth of the brain behind the eyes..

After a shooting spree, they always want to take the guns away from the people who didn't do it. i sure as hell wouldn't want to live in a society where the only people allowed guns are the police and the military. a functioning police state needs no police. anything that can be done chemically can be done by other means. there couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. no sales talk necessary. the client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. the aim of education is the knowledge, not of facts, but of values. love? what is it? most natural painkiller what there is. the question is frequently asked: why does a man become a drug addict? the answer is that he usually does not intend to become an addict. you don't wake up one morning and decide to be a drug addict. it takes at least three months' shooting twice a day to get any habit at all. and you don't really know what junk sickness is until you have had several habits. it took me almost six months to get my first habit, and then the withdrawal symptoms were mild. i think it no exaggeration to say it takes about a year and several hundred injections to make an addict. the questions, of course, could be asked: why did you ever try narcotics? why did you continue using it long enough to become an addict? you become a narcotics addict because you do not have strong motivations in the other direction. junk wins by default. i tried it as a matter of curiosity. i drifted along taking shots when i could score. i ended up hooked. most addicts i have talked to report a similar experience. they did not start using drugs for any reason they can remember. they just drifted along until they got hooked. if you have never been addicted, you can have no clear idea what it means to need junk with the addict's special need. you don't decide to be an addict. one morning you wake up sick and you're an addict. (junky, prologue, p. xxxviii) smash the control images. smash the control machine. knowing you might not make it... in that knowledge courage is born. to be an outlaw you must first have a base in law to reject and get out of, i never had such a base. i never had a place i could call home that meant any more than a key to a house, apartment or hotel room. ... am i alien? alien from what exactly? perhaps my home is my dream city, more real than my waking life precisely because it has no relation to waking life... open your mind and let the pictures out. little raspy incurving hooks he thought this was cute at first nobody loved it. and it wanted to be kissed, you could hear him for blocks, and the asshole said to him... like a tadpole's tail that the asshole couldn't do was see. give orders anymore. and then finally the brain must have died... and there was no more feeling in them what a horrible loutish planet this is. the dominant species consists of sadistic morons, faces bearing the hideous lineaments of spiritual famine swollen with stupid hate. hopeless rubbish..