I have always wanted to write a book that ended with the word 'mayonnaise.

— Richard Brautigan

The most memorable Richard Brautigan quotes that will activate your inner potential

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee affords.


It's strange how the simple things in life go on while we become more difficult.


The time is right to mix sentences with dirt and the sun with punctuation and rain with verbs.


I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.


Excuse me, I said. I thought you were a trout stream. I'm not, she said.


Once upon a time there was a dwarf knight who only had fifty words to live in and they were so fleeting that he only had time to put on a suit of armor and ride swiftly on a black horse into a very well-lit woods where he vanished forever.


All girls should have a poem written for them even if we have to turn this goddamn world upside down to do it.


There are spiders living comfortably in my house while the wind howls outside.

They aren't bothering anybody. If I were a fly, I'd have second thoughts, but I'm not, so I don't.


Im haunted a little this evening by feelings that have no vocabulary and events that should be explained in dimensions of lint rather than words. Ive been examining half-scraps of my childhood. They are pieces of distant life that have no form or meaning. They are things that just happened like lint.


If you will die for me, I will die for you and our graves will be like two lovers washing their clothes together in a laundromat If you will bring the soap I will bring the bleach.


There are seductions that should be in the Smithsonian Institute, right next to The Spirit of St. Louis.


The bookstore was a parking lot for used graveyards.

Thousands of graveyards were parked in rows like cars. Most of the books were out of print, and no one wanted to read them any more and the people who had read the books had died or forgotten about them, but through the organic process of music the books had become virgins again.


About Richard Brautigan

Quotes 80 sayings
Profession Novelist
Birthday October 16

I saw thousands of pumpkins last night come floating in on the tide, bumping up against the rocks and rolling up on the beaches; it must be Halloween in the sea


the Coleman lantern is the symbol of the camping craze that is currently sweeping America, with its unholy white light burning in the forests of America.


"I count a lot of things that there's no need to count," Cameron said.

"Just because that's the way I am. But I count all the things that need to be counted."


If you get hung up on everybody else's hang-ups, then the whole world's going to be nothing more than one huge gallows.


I do not care to be esthetically tickled in a fancy theater surrounded by an audience drenched in the confident perfume of culture. I can't afford it.


Probably the closest things to perfection are the huge absolutely empty holes that astronomers have recently discovered in space. If there's nothing there, how can anything go wrong?


I like to think (it has to be!) of a cybernetic ecology where we are free of our labors and joined back to nature, returned to our mammal brothers and sisters, and all watched over by machines of loving grace.


A Boat O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest.

We took him to the carnival and he started crying when he saw the Ferris wheel. Electric green and red tears flowed down his furry cheeks. He looked like a boat out on the dark water.


The 1960s: A lot of people remember hating President Lyndon Baines Johnson and loving Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison, depending on the point of view. God rest their souls.


In a Cafe" I watched a man in a cafe fold a slice of bread as if he were folding a birth certificate or looking at the photograph of a dead lover.


I'm in a constant process of thinking about things.


For the rest of my life I'll be thinking about that hamburger.

I'll be sitting there at the counter, holding it in my hands with tears streaming down my cheeks. The waitress will be looking away because she doesn't like to see kids crying when they are eating hamburgers.


I daydream about a high school where everybody plays the harmonica: the students, the teachers, the principal, the janitor and the cook in the cafeteria.


We walked back to iDEATH, holding hands.

Hands are very nice things, especially after they have travelled back from making love.


Night was coming on in, borrowing the light.

It had started out borrowing just a few cents worth of the light, but now it was borrowing thousands of dollars worth of the light every second. The light would soon be gone, the bank closed, the tellers unemployed, the bank president a suicide.


He learned about life at sixteen, first from Dostoevsky and then from the whores of New Orleans.


I fished upstream coming ever closer and closer to the narrow staircase of the canyon. Then I went up into it as if I were entering a department store. I caught three trout in the lost and found department.


Boo, Forever Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I'm haunted by all the space that I will live without you.


I don't want my daughter to be educated. I think women should just be decorative.


I feel as if I am an ad for the sale of a haunted house: 18 rooms $37,000 I’m yours ghosts and all.


I'll think about things for thirty or forty years before I'll write it.


Love Poem ـــــــــ It's so nice to wake up in the morning all alone and not have to tell somebody you love them when you don't love them any more.


I believe I saw a woodcock. He had a long bill like putting a fire hydrant into a pencil sharpener, then pasting it onto a bird and letting the bird fly away in front of me with this thing on its face for no other purpose than to amaze me.


Her sunny side was always up.


...what makes you older is when your bones, muscles and blood wear out, when the heart sinks into oblivion and all the houses you ever lived in are gone and people are not really certain that your civilization ever existed.


because you always have a clock strapped to your body, it's natural that i should think of you as the correct time: with your long blonde hair at 8:03, and your pulse-lightning breasts at 11:17, and your rose-meow smile at 5:30, i know i'm right.


If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer. That is my name.


For fear you will be alone you do so many things that aren't you at all.


Like some kind of strange vacuum cleaner I tried to console him.

I recited the same old litanies that you say to people when you try to help their broken hearts, but words can't help at all. It's just the sound of another human voice that makes the only difference. There's nothing you're ever going to say that's going to make anybody happy when they're feeling shitty about losing somebody that they love.


Burn all the maps to your body. I'm not here of my own choosing.


Our names were made for us in another century.


A sombrero fell out of the sky and landed on the main street of town in front of the mayor, his cousin, and a person out of work. The day was scrubbed clean by the desert air. The sky was blue. It was the blue of human eyes, waiting for something to happen. There was no reason for a sombrero to fall out of the sky. No airplane or helicopter was passing overhead and it was not a religious holiday.


The smallest snowstorm on record took place an hour ago in my back yard.

It was approximately two flakes. I waited for more to fall, but that was it. The entire storm was two flakes.


Gee, You're so Beautiful That It's Starting to Rain Oh, Marcia, I want your long blonde beauty to be taught in high school, so kids will learn that God lives like music in the skin and sounds like a sunshine harpsicord. I want high school report cards to look like this: Playing with Gentle Glass Things A Computer Magic A Writing Letters to Those You Love A Finding out about Fish A Marcia's Long Blonde Beauty A+!


I'll tell you about it because I am here and you are distant.


The sun was like a huge 50-cent piece that someone had poured kerosene on and then had lit with a match, and said, "Here, hold this while I go get a newspaper," and put the coin in my hand, but never came back.


One day Time will die And love will bury it

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