The Lathe of Heaven

I don’t like making the rest of the world live in my dreams, but I certainly don’t want to live in yours.”

this talking was a mere preliminary, a vestigial rite from the palmy days of analysis;

The only solid partitions left were inside the head.

“What do you mean by that: ‘the worse it gets’? Look here, George.” Man to man. Reason will prevail. If only we sit down and talk things over … “In the few weeks that we’ve worked together, this is what we’ve done. Eliminated overpopulation; restored the quality of urban life and the ecological balance of the planet. Eliminated cancer as a major ki

She was a destructive influence on you. Irresponsible. You have no social conscience, no altruism. You’re a moral jellyfish.

Well aware from a thousand EEG readings of the links between the pressure of the atmosphere and the heaviness of the mind, he could almost feel his psychosoma being buoyed up by that bright, drying wind. Have to keep that up, keep the climate improving, he thought rapidly, almost surreptitiously.

Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.

come on hard times since but was proceeding toward ruin with composure and a certain dirty magnificence.

The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.