Thomas Pynchon Quotes About Dreams

• Idle dreaming is often of the essence of what we do.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Essence, Idle

• You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s past sorting out.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Past, Sorting Out

  Thomas Pynchon (2012). “Gravity's Rainbow”, p.140, Penguin

• Real flight and dreams of flight go together. Both are part of the same movement. Not A before B, but all together.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Real, Flying

  Thomas Pynchon (2012). “Gravity's Rainbow”, p.126, Penguin

• Darkness invades the dreams of the glassblower. Of all the unpleasantries his dreams grab in out of the night air, an extinguished light is the worst. Light in his dreams, was always hope: the basic, moral hope. As the contacts break helically away, hope turns to darkness, and the glassblower wakes sharply tonight crying, "Who? Who?"

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Night, Light

  "Gravity's Rainbow". Book by Thomas Pynchon, 1973.

• She touched the edge of its voluptuous field, knowing it would be lovely beyond dreams simply to submit to it; that not gravity's pull, laws of ballistics, feral ravening, promised more delight. She tested it, shivering: I am meant to remember. Each clue that comes is supposed to have its own clarity, its fine chances for permanence. But then she wondered if the gemlike "clues" were only some kind of compensation. To make up for her having lost the direct, epileptic Word, the cry that might abolish the night.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Night, Law

  Thomas Pynchon (2012). “The Crying of Lot 49”, p.55, Penguin

• I dream that I have found us both again, With spring so many strangers' lives away, And we, so free, Out walking by the sea, With someone else's paper words to say.... They took us at the gates of green return, Too lost by then to stop, and ask them why- Do children meet again? Does any trace remain, Along the superhighways of July?

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Children, Spring

• So the city became the material expression of a particular loss of innocence – not sexual or political innocence but somehow a shared dream of what a city might at its best prove to be – its inhabitants became, and have remained, an embittered and amnesiac race, wounded but unable to connect through memory to the moment of injury, unable to summon the face of their violator.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Memories, Loss

  Thomas Pynchon (2012). “Against the Day”, p.179, Penguin

• Los males son muchos, las bendiciones pocas,
  pero los sueños esta noche te cobijarán.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Blessing, Tonight

  Thomas Pynchon (2012). “V.”, p.166, Penguin

• I was dreaming ... about my grandfather. A very old man, at least as old as I am now, 91. I thought, when I was a boy, that he had been 91 all his life. Now I feel as if I have been 91 all my life.

  Thomas Pynchon

  Dream, Men, Boys

  Thomas Pynchon (2012). “The Crying of Lot 49”, p.43, Penguin

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