Echomatic.

Why should the wealth of the country be stored in banks and elevators while the idle workman wanders homeless about the streets and the idle loafers who hoard the gold only to spend it on riotous living are rolling about in fine carriages from which they look out on peaceful meetings and call them riots?

I have learned that there is always magic in words.

Analogues are all very well, and they have the unanswerable sanction of custom: none the less, when I proclaim that my adored mistress’s hair reminds me of gold I am quite consciously lying. It looks like yellow hair, and nothing else: nor would I willingly venture within ten feet of any woman whose head sprouted with wires, of whatever metal. And to protest that her eyes are as gray and fathomless as the sea is very well also, and the sort of thing which seems expected of me: but imagine how horrific would be puddles of water slopping about in a lady’s eye-sockets! If we poets could actually behold the monsters we rhyme of, we would scream and run.

[T]he Great Pyramid of Cheops […] cannot fall down, because a pyramid exists in the shape of a building which has already fallen down.

Said Jurgen, scornfully: ‘But is justice, then, a word?’

‘Oh, yes, it is one of the most useful. It is the Spanish justicia, the Portuguese justiça, the Italian giustizia, all from the Latin justus. Oh, yes indeed, but justice is one of my best connected words, and one of the best trained also, I can assure you.’

Perfect things in poetry do not seem strange, they seem inevitable.

This is the circus of Doctor Lao.
We show you things that you don’t know.
We tell you of places you’ll never go.
We’ve searched the world both high and low
To capture the beasts for this marvelous show
From mountains where maddened winds did blow
To islands where zephyrs breathed sweet and slow.
Oh, we’ve spared no pains and we’ve spared no dough;
And we’ve dug at the secrets of long ago;
And we’ve risen to Heaven and plunged Below,
For we wanted to make it one hell of a show.
And the things you’ll see in your brains will glow
Long past the time when the winter snow
Has frozen the summer’s furbelow.
For this is the circus of Doctor Lao.
And youth may come and age may go;
But no more circuses like this show!

Creationism’s a way of thinking I am not worthless at a time when people were being told and shown they were.

You have to be an outstanding psychologist to terrorise, blandish, to control like that, and the Tattoo could sniff the needy and post-needy surrendered. That was how he did it. He was never just a thug. Just thugs only ever got to far. The best thugs were all psychologists.

These revelations into a paradigm of recusant science, so the goddamn universe itself was up for grabs, were part of the most awesome shift in vision Billy had ever had. But the awe had been greatest when he had not understood at all. The more they were clarified, the more the kitsch of the norms disappointed him.