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Quote by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Work

A Man Without a Country

A fictional narrative that delves into the psychological and emotional journey of an individual who feels disconnected from their homeland and society. more

Author

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Kurt Vonnegut Jr.. more

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“In The Archangel Raphael Leaving Tobias' Family, Rembrandt leaves dirt on the shadowed soles of Raphael's feet as he flies off, illuminated in glory. Passing by the painting, one sees the dramatic action, the melodramatic emotions, and the re-created narrative events of the Bible. Slowed down a bit, the viewer sees light across a large muscular calf, a strong and sharply shaped ankle, and then dirty feet. The angel who tells us he only pretended to eat - this to explain away all traces of his apparent earthliness as a fallen creaturely being - is here on the canvas with dirty feet, carrying soil, the created, to the creator. Van Gogh had rightly said there are mysteries in these paintings. They are mysteries of device and design, not of messianic significance. They require a docent and not a priest, a creative critic to guide the view of specific images, not a guardian of mysteries and master of their enigmatic authority. Dirty feet on the soles of an archangel famous for his annunciations give the viewer a point of view on the inescapably human nature of the narrated God. Raphael may no eat. He may believe he creates an illusion to satisfy the religious desire for mythological consistency, but even archangels deceive themselves as well as others. Humans sometimes do the same in inventing the transcendence they need or think they want - creating a regime from which the priestly classes rule, even theorizing the alienation of the divine. Deceit is an essential device of cultural adaptation. It constructs needed beliefs that at high and low levels of thought or action complement their existence with modes of self-defense, which protect them from not only needed analysis but also the importance of failure.”

“Nobody can guarantee that it's going to be okay, but- and I don't know if this will be comforting to anyone else- the possibility exists that there's a piece of corn on a floor somewhere that will make you just as confused about why you are laughing as you have ever been about why you are depressed. And even if everything still seems like hopeless bullshit, maybe it's just pointless bullshit or weird bullshit, or possibly not even bullshit. I don't know. But when you're concerned that the miserable, boring wasteland in front of you might stretch all the way into forever, not knowing feels strangely hope-like.”

“Your voice is the only alarm that I’ll actually wake up to. Your laugh is that one song they play way too much on the radio, but for some reason, I still love it. Your smile is the only thing that makes me hate mornings a little less. Your hands are my security, like knowing that even when I drive you nuts, you’re still gonna reach for me. And my arm always falls asleep when you do because I just want to be able to hold you even in your dreams.”