I'm tired and I want to rest; I want to get out of this and go lie down somewhere, off where it's dark and no one speaks. Forever.

The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words.

There will come a time when it isn't 'They're spying on me through my phone' anymore. Eventually, it will be 'My phone is spying on me'.

Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.

Everything in life is just for a while.

It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.

Reality is just a point of view.

There is no route out of the maze. The maze shifts as you move through it, because it is alive.

To fight the Empire is to be infected by its derangement.... Whoever defeats the Empire becomes the Empire; it proliferates like a virus.

Just because something bears the aspect of the inevitable one should not, therefore, go along willingly with it.

…we all lie to ourselves; we tell our own selves more lies than we ever do other people.

We have been raised to fear the yes within ourselves, our deepest cravings.

A woman who feels ugly can go to the best party and have a terrible time, but a woman who likes the way she looks can go to a funeral and have a marvellous time.

Looking back now I realise that the worst things that happened to me were the best things in disguise - I just didn’t know how to read the signs.

I have had a long tug-of-war going on with the FDA, in particular, and with other regulatory agencies, and it has nothing to do with vaccines.

What is the point of trying to put down on paper emotions that are too complex, too huge, too overwhelming to be confined by an alphabet? Love isn't the only word that fails. Hate does, too.

I've never contended that I had a really horrible life.

Conversation is an evanescent relation,--no more.

I entered what I can only describe as an alternate universe, and experienced timelessness for myself, first-hand. There was no refuting the immortality of the soul for me ever again after that.

Life is a loom, weaving illusion.

Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?