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Quote by Nick Harkaway

“In the distant past, in what might be described as the Golden Days of War, the business of wreaking havoc on your neighbours (these being the only people you could logistically expect to wreak havoc upon) was uncomplicated. You—the King—pointed at the next-door country and said, “I want me one of those!” Your vassals—stalwart fellows selected for heft and musculature rather than brain—said, “Yes, my liege,” or sometimes, “What’s in it for me?” but broadly speaking they rode off and burned, pillaged, slaughtered and hacked until either you were richer by a few hundred square miles of forest and farmland, or you were rudely arrested by heathens from the other side who wanted a word in your shell-like ear about cross-border aggression. It was a personal thing, and there was little doubt about who was responsible for kicking it off, because that person was to be found in the nicest room of a big stone house wearing a very expensive hat.”

Quote by Nick Harkaway

Book:The Gone-Away World
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Work

The Gone-Away World

The story follows a young protagonist who embarks on a journey through a world that has become increasingly surreal and disconnected from its past. The narrative explores themes of identity, memory, and the human condition amidst a backdrop of futuristic technology and political intrigue. more

Author

Nick Harkaway
Nick Harkaway

Nick Harkaway, born in 1972, is a talented British novelist known for his imaginative works, deep themes, and complex narrative structures. His novels often deal with technology, politics, and social issues, and have been well-received by readers. more

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“I grin, and he beams with pride. “So what kind of hat is that?” I ask, unable to resist. He’s adorable when he’s showing off his wardrobe—like a puppy doing tricks. Although I remain cautious, knowing in the blink of an eye he can become a wolf again. “My Peregrination Cap,” he answers. “Huh?” His smile widens—baring white teeth. “Peregrination. An excursion … a journey.” “So, why don’t you just call it your traveling cap?” “Then it wouldn’t be much of a conversation starter, would it?” I raise an eyebrow. “Um, the fact that it’s made of living moths might give you something to talk about.” Morpheus laughs. For once our relationship feels comfortable, friendly.”

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Book:Unhinged
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“God is Sisyphus, and existence (life) is the stone. The accomplishment of purpose is the saddest point. Sisyphus is happiest without the total accomplishment of the purpose, while he persistently works and aims at the top. The accomplishment of the purpose is Sisyphus’ fall, so he forgets his achievement quickly. Voyage contains his whole hope and beauty; the voyage is the purpose of the stone—purpose to itself alone. He always arrives in the same place but chooses voyage instead of the target. The purpose and target were always there. Voyage is always new because it is fed from oblivion by unaware memory, with infinite possibilities stemming from the nature of the absolute through “free” will and unincidental accidents or errors. Voyage is the ultimate goal or purpose because it hides an infinite multitude within itself; the infinity of the finite through endless possibilities. The beauty of infinity is always new; the voyage is the sum of happenings on the scale. Every experience or adventure is new. Beauty shines from experience.”

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Book:ABSOLUTE
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“What a shocking bad hat!' was the phrase that was next in vogue. No sooner had it become universal, than thousands of idle but sharp eyes were on the watch for the passenger whose hat shewed any signs, however slight, of ancient service. Immediately the cry arose, and, like the war-whoop of the Indians, was repeated by a hundred discordant throats. He was a wise man who, finding himself under these circumstances 'the observed of all observers,' bore his honours meekly. He who shewed symptoms of ill-feeling at the imputations cast upon his hat, only brought upon himself redoubled notice. The mob soon perceive whether a man is irritable, and, if of their own class, they love to make sport of him. When such a man, and with such a hat, passed in those days through a crowded neighbourhood, he might think himself fortunate if his annoyances were confined to the shouts and cries of the populace. The obnoxious hat was often snatched from his head and thrown into the gutter by some practical joker, and then raised, covered with mud, upon the end of a stick, for the admiration of the spectators, who held their sides with laughter, and exclaimed, in the pauses of their mirth, 'Oh, what a shocking bad hat!' 'What a shocking bad hat!' Many a nervous poor man, whose purse could but ill spare the outlay, doubtless purchased a new hat before the time, in order to avoid exposure in this manner.”

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Book:Extraordinary Popular Delusions and The Madness of Crowds, Volume 1
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“Jeg har blitt latterliggjort i landets største aviser, jeg har hatt folk stående utenfor vinduet mitt og rope skjellsord, og mamma og pappa har fått lange håndskrevne brev i posten om hvor stygg og jævlig barnet deres er. Men ingenting av det kan måle seg med å stå i dusjen, helt alene, og se på sitt eget underliv og dømme seg selv.”

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Book:Ting jeg har lært
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