Citati iz knjige „The Lathe of Heaven“ autora Ursula Le Guin

What’s the function of a galaxy? I don’t know if our life has a purpose and I don’t see that it matters. What does matter is that we’re a part. Like a thread in a cloth or a grass-blade in a field. It is and we are. What we do is like wind blowing on the grass.”
And it is not seemly for a psychiatrist to open the door and shout, “Next!”
In bed, they made love. Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; re-made all the time, made new.
It may remain for us to learn . . . that our task is only beginning, and that there will never be given to us even the ghost of any help, save the help of unutterable and unthinkable Time. We may have to learn that the infinite whirl of death and birth, out of which we cannot escape, is of our own creation, of our own seeking; — that the forces integrating worlds are the errors of the Past; — that the eternal sorrow is but the eternal hunger of insatiable desire; — and that the burnt-out suns are rekindled only by the inextinguishable passions of vanished lives.

—Lafcadio Hearn, Out of the East
Orr knew, with dreary clarity, what he would get on with today: the war. The papers were full of it, even Orr’s news-resistant mind had been full of it, coming here. The growing war in the Near East. Haber would end it. And no doubt the killings in Africa. For Haber was a benevolent man. He wanted to make the world better for humanity.
The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.
scribbled on a paper on his knee.
“And who’d you borrow Pharm Cards from?”
“Friends.”
“Got to have the names.”
After a while the medic said, “One name, anyhow. Just a formality. It won’t get ’em in trouble. See, they’ll just get a reprimand from the police, and HEW Control will keep a check on their Pharm Cards for a year. Just a formality. One name.”
“I can’t. They were trying to help me.”
“Look, if you won’t give the names, you’re resisting, and
Mount Hood, and at this Dr. Haber gazed

...

Confucius and you are both dreams, and I who say you are dreams am a dream myself. This is a paradox. Tomorrow a wise man may explain it; that tomorrow will not be for ten thousand generations.
— CHUANG TSE: II
hat sleep’s not enough, that your b
ade me jumpy.”
“I’ll bet it did. And that last combination dose you took was a lulu. But not, in itself, dan
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