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Quote by William S. Burroughs

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And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks

This novel is a collection of short stories that delve into surreal and existential themes, presenting readers with a series of fantastical and often unsettling scenarios. The author employs a unique narrative style that challenges conventional storytelling, inviting readers to ponder the nature of reality and the human condition. more

Author

William S. Burroughs
William S. Burroughs

William S. Burroughs was an American novelist known for his unique writing style and his significant influence on postmodern literature. His works often involve social criticism, political satire, and surrealistic elements. more

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“A book is open in front of me and this is what it has to say about the symptoms of morphine withdrawal: '... morbid anxiety, a nervous depressed condition, irritability, weakening of the memory, occasional hallucinations and a mild impairment of consciousness ...' I have not experienced any hallucinations, but I can only say that the rest of this description is dull, pedestrian and totally inadequate. 'Depressed condition' indeed! Having suffered from this appalling malady, I hereby enjoin all doctors to be more compassionate toward their patients. What overtakes the addict deprived of morphine for a mere hour or two is not a 'depressed condition': it is slow death. Air is insubstantial, gulping it down is useless ... there is not a cell in one's body that does not crave ... but crave what? This is something which defies analysis and explanation. In short, the individual ceases to exist: he is eliminated. The body which moves, agonises and suffers is a corpse. It wants nothing, can think of nothing but morphine. To die of thirst is a heavenly, blissful death compared with the craving for morphine. The feeling must be something like that of a man buried alive, clawing at the skin on his chest in the effort to catch the last tiny bubbles of air in his coffin, or of a heretic at the stake, groaning and writhing as the first tongues of flame lick at his feet. Death. A dry, slow death. That is what lurks behind that clinical, academic phrase 'a depressed condition'.”

“See, what had happened was that the Versed had caused retrograde amnesia, the side-effects of the Morphine disappearing caused my bowels to start moving again, and the alcohol I guess had just prevented my mind from appreciating these facts until the last possible second ...or not. Good times.”

“If just for one week in the South would show them some simple, impartial courtesy. I wonder what would happen. Do you think it'd give 'em airs or the beginnings of self-respect? Have you ever been snubbed, Atticus? Do you know how it feels? No, don't tell me they're children and don't feel it: I was a child and felt it, so grown children must feel, too. A real good snub, Atticus, makes you feel like you're too nasty to associate with people. How they're as good as they are now is a mystery to me, after a hundred years of systematic denial that they are human. I wonder what kind of miracle we could work with a week's decency.”