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Salman Rushdie

Salman Rushdie Quotes

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Famous Salman Rushdie Quotes

“Mr. Geronimo was a hoarder of fuel, gas masks, flashlights, blankets, medical supplies, canned food, water in lightweight packets; a man who expected emergencies, who counted on the fabric of society to tear and disintegrate, who know that superglue could be used to hold cuts together, who did not trust human nature to build solidly or well. A man who expected the worst.”

PreparationEmergenciesHoardingPreppingPreppersExpecting The Worst
Book:Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights
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“He was aware that the way things really were was far different than most people believed. The world a wilder, more feral, more abnormal environment than ordinary civilians were able to accept. Ordinary civilians lived in a state of innocence, veiling their eyes against the truth. The world unveiled would scare them, destroy their moral certainties, lead to losses of nerve or retreats into religion or drink.”

WorldLifeIgnoranceWildnessAbnormalityFeralness
Book:Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights
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“Gandhi today is up for grabs. He has become abstract. ahistorical, postmodern, no longer a man in and of his time but a free-floating concept, a part of the available stock of cultural symbols, an image that can be borrowed, used, distorted, reinvented, to fit many different purposes, and to the devil with historicity or truth. Richard Attenborough's Gandhi stuck me, when it was first released, as an example of this type of unhistorical Western saint-making. Here was Gandhi-as-guru, purveying the fashionable product, the Wisdom of the East, and Gandhi-as-Christ, dying and frequently going on hunger strike) so that others may live.”

Cultural AppropriationMyth Making
Book:Step Across This Line: Collected Nonfiction 1992-2002
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“She was familiar with a certain type of American crazy. Gun crazy was normal to her, shooting-kids-at-school or putting-on-a-Joker-mask-and-mowing-people-down-in-a-mall or just plain murdering-your-mom-at-breakfast crazy, Second Amendment crazy, that was just the everyday crazy that kept going down and there was nothing you could do about it if you loved freedom; and she understood knife crazy from her younger days in the Bronx, and the knockout-game type of crazy that persuaded young black kids it was cool to punch Jews in the face. She could comprehend drug crazy and politician crazy and Westboro Baptist Church crazy and Trump crazy because those things, they were the American way, but this new crazy was different. It felt 9/11 crazy: foreign, evil.”

AmericaPoliticsViolenceCrazinessAmericansGun ViolenceShootingsAmerican Way
Book:Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights
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“It had been more than a year since the Joker’s conquest of America and we were all still in shock and going through the stages of grief but now we needed to come together and set love and beauty and solidarity and friendship against the monstrous forces that faced us. Humanity was the only answer to the cartoon. I had no plan except love. I hoped another plan might emerge in time but for now there was only holding each other tightly and passing strength to each other, body to body, mouth to mouth, spirit to spirit, me to you.”

LovePolitical SatireElection Year 2020Human UnityDonald Trump As The JokerElection Year 2016Election Year 2018Literature Of ReistanceQuotes For New Year 2018
Book:The Golden House
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“- Enquanto a queda dos anjos era uma simples questão de poder; nem mais nem menos do que um trabalhinho de policiamento celestial, o castigo de uma rebelião, uma atitude de dureza pour décourageur les autres. - Quão pouca confiança em Si própria devia, pois, ter esta divindade que não queria que as Suas mais perfeitas criaturas distinguissem o bem do mal; o que reinava pelo terror, exigindo a submissão absoluta até dos Seus colaboradores mais próximos, despachando todos os dissidentes para as Suas ardentes Sibérias, para os gulags do Inferno.”

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Book:The Satanic Verses
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“When he resigned his boss thought he was asking for more money. 'No,' he said. 'I'm just going to try to be a full-time writer.' Oh, his boss said, you want a lot more money. 'No, really,' he said. 'This isn't a negotiation. I'm just giving you my thirty days' notice. Thirty-one days from now, I won't be coming in.' Hmm, his boss replied. I don't think we can give you as much money as that.”

MoneyRaisesResignation
Book:Joseph Anton: A Memoir
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“It was the Age of Anything-Can-Happen, he reminded himself. He had heard many people say that on TV and on the outré video clips floating in cyberspace, which added a further, new-technology depth to his addiction. There were no rules any more. And in the Age of Anything-Can-Happen, well, anything could happen. Old friends could become new enemies and traditional enemies could be your new besties or even lovers. It was no longer possible to predict the weather, or the likelihood of war, or the outcome of elections. A woman might fall in love with a piglet, or a man start living with an owl. A beauty might fall asleep and, when kissed, wake up speaking a different language and in that new language reveal a completely altered character. A flood might drown your city. A tornado might carry your house to a faraway land where, upon landing, it would squash a witch. Criminals could become kings and kings be unmasked as criminals. A man might discover that the woman he lived with was his father’s illegitimate child. A whole nation might jump off a cliff like swarming lemmings. Men who played presidents on TV could become presidents. The water might run out. A woman might bear a baby who was found to be a revenant god. Words could lose their meanings and acquire new ones. The world might end, as at least one prominent scientist- entrepreneur had begun repeatedly to predict. An evil scent would hang over the ending. And a TV star might miraculously return the love of a foolish old coot, giving him an unlikely romantic triumph which would redeem a long, small life, bestowing upon it, at the last, the radiance of majesty.”

MagicPredictionsPossibilitiesRulesMagic RealismNo Rules
Book:Quichotte
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“I'm not fucking fighting to defend women's right to wear the veil, the hijab, the niqab, whatever," she declaimed. "All these young women these days who describe the veil as a signifier of their identity. I tell them they are suffering from what that presently unfashionable philosopher Karl Marx would have called false consciousness. In most of the world the veil is not a free choice. Women are forced into invisibility by men. These girls in the West making their quote-unquote free choices are legitimizing the oppression of their sisters in the parts of the world where the choice is not free. That's what I tell them and they're very shocked. They tell me they find my remarks offensive. I tell them I feel the same way about the veil. It's exhausting. I've become embittered.”

AmericaMarxHijabFalse Consciousness
Book:Quichotte
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“Nobody ever wanted to go to war, but if a war came your way, it might as well be the right war, about the most important things in the world, and you might as well, if you were going to fight it, be called "Rushdie," and stand where your father had placed you, in the tradition of the grand Aristotelian, Averroës, Abul Walid Muhammad ibn Ahmad ibn Rushd.”

WarReligionHistoryTerrorismMemoirFree SpeechSecularismLiteraryAristotleFatwaAverroësIbn Rushd
Book:Joseph Anton: A Memoir
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“In ancient times,' Quichotte said, in a last appeal to reason, 'when a woman was accused of witchcraft, the proofs were that she has a "familiar", usually a cat, plus a broomstick and a third nipple for the Devil to suck on. But almost all homes had cats and brooms and in those days many people's bodies had warts. Thus the mere accusation, witch!, was all that was required. The proof was in every home and on every woman's body and therefore all women so accused were automatically guilty.”

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Book:Quichotte
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“Desperate times, desperate measures. Ever since the beating in the park Sancho had felt something go wrong inside him, not a physical ailment but an existential one. After you were badly beaten, the essential part of you that made you a human being could come loose from the world, as if the self were a small boat and the rope mooring it to the dock slid off its cleats so that the dinghy drifted out helplessly into the middle of the pond; or as if a large vessel, a merchant ship, perhaps, began in the grip of a powerful current to drag its anchor and ran the risk of colliding with other ships or disastrously running aground. He now understood that this loosening was perhaps not only physical but also ethical, that when violence was done to a person, then violence entered the range of what that person--previously peaceable and law-abiding--afterwards included in the spectrum of what was possible. It became an option.”

LifeUnderstandingViolenceCivilizationDesperationPhysical ViolenceBeatings
Book:Quichotte
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“When a book leaves its author's desk it changes. Even before anyone has read it, before eyes other than its creator's have looked upon a single phrase, it is irretrievably altered. It has become a book that can be read, that no longer belongs to its maker. It has acquired, in a sense, free will. It will make its journey through the world and there is no longer anything the author can do about it. Even he, as he looks at its sentences, reads them differently now that they can be read by others. They look like different sentences. The book has gone out into the world and the world has remade it.”

WritingReadingBooksPerceptionPublishingAuthorsMetamorphosisBooks And ReadingBooks And AuthorsPublished Books
Book:Joseph Anton: A Memoir
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“Obviously, a rigid, blinkered, absolutist world view is the easiest to keep hold of, whereas the fluid, uncertain, metamorphic picture I've always carried about is rather more vulnerable. Yet I must cling with all my might to … my own soul; must hold on to its mischievous, iconoclastic, out-of-step clown-instincts, no matter how great the storm. And if that plunges me into contradiction and paradox, so be it; I've lived in that messy ocean all my life. I've fished in it for my art. This turbulent sea was the sea outside my bedroom window in Bombay. It is the sea by which I was born, and which I carry within me wherever I go.”

LifeWritingArtSoulCreativityInstinctVulnerabilityParadoxSelf DeterminationSelf KnowledgeRigidityIconoclasmWorld ViewsSources Of Inspiration
Author:Salman Rushdie
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“Earlier this morning,' Bukka told him, 'I entertained our great and wise sage, Vidyasagar, the Ocean of Knowledge, and I suggested to him that his masterwork-in-progress, his inquiry into the Sixteen Systems of Philosophy, was reportedly of a brilliance so extraordinary that it would be a tragedy if it ended up incomplete, unfinished, because of the distractions of his work at court. I also took the liberty to mention that astrology was not my personal cup of tea, so that the daily morning horoscope readings demanded by my brother would no longer be required. I must say that on the whole he took it very well. He is a man of infinite grace, and when he let out a single wordless ejaculation—a 'ha!' so loud that it frightened the horses in the stables—I understood this to be part of his transcendent spiritual practice, a controlled exhalation from his body in which he expelled all that was now redundant. A letting-go. After that he took his leave and I believe he has retreated into his original cave of so long ago, near the perimeter of the Mandana complex, to begin a ninety-one-day program of meditation and soul renewal. I know that we will all be grateful for the fruits of this disciplined activity and for the rebirth of his spirit in an even more bountiful incarnation. He is the greatest of us all.' 'You fired him,' Haleya Kote dared to summarize.”

EmploymentEloquenceTermination
Book:Victory City
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