Americana Quotes

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Americana Americana by Don DeLillo
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Americana Quotes (showing 1-21 of 21)
“It is so much simpler to bury reality than it is to dispose of dreams”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Too much has been forgotten in the name of memory. ”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Talent is everything. If you've got talent, nothing else matters. You can screw up your personal life something terrible. So what. If you've got talent, it's there in reserve. Anybody who has talent they know they have it and that's it. It's what makes you what you are. It tells you you're you. Talent is everything; sanity is nothing. I'm convinced of it. I think I had something once. I showed promise, didn't I? But I was too sane. I couldn't make the leap out of my own soul into the soul of the universe. That's the leap they all made. From Blake to Rimbaud. I don't write anything but checks. I read science fiction. I go on business trips to South Bend and Rochester. The one in Minnesota. Not Rochester, New York. Rochester, Minnesota. I couldn't make the leap.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Now this girl was about twenty-one years old. A sweet little coed. Spends a night with a married man. Goes home the next day and tells her mama and daddy. Don’t ask me why. Maybe just to rub their faces in it. They decide she needs a lesson. Whole family drives out into the desert, right out to that spot we just passed. All three of them plus the girl’s pet dog. Papa tells the girl to dig a shallow grave. Mama gets down on her hands and knees and holds the dog by the collar. When the girl is all through digging, papa gives her a .22 caliber revolver and tells her to shoot the dog. A real touching family scene. Make a good calendar for some religious group to give away. The girl puts the weapon to her temple and kills herself. Now isn’t that a heartwarming story? Restores my faith in just about everything.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“America can be saved only by what it's trying to destroy. ”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“...it occurred to me that perhaps in this city the crowd was essential to the individual; without it, he had nothing against which to scrape his anger, no echo for grief, and not the slightest proof that there were others more lonely than he. it was just a passing thought.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“The whole country's going to puke blood when they read it.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“We surrounded ourselves with smoke and loud noise. That's the way we chose to live. I'm prepared to defend it.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“I drove all night, northeast, and once again I felt it was literature I had been confronting these past days, the archetypes of the dismal mystery, sons and daughters of the archetypes, images that could not be certain which of two confusions held less terror, their own or what their own might become if it ever faced the truth. I drove at insane speeds.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Once out of the mailroom, I began to learn more about fear. As soon
as fear begins to ascend, anatomically, from the pit of the stomach to the
throat and brain, from fear of violence to the more nameless kind, you
come to believe you are part of a horrible experiment. I learned to
distrust those superiors who encouraged independent thinking. When you
gave it to them, they returned it in the form of terror, for they knew
that ideas, only that, could hasten their obsolescence. Management asked
for new ideas all the time; memos circulated down the echelons, requesting
bold and challenging concepts. But I learned that new ideas could finish
you unless you wrapped them in a plastic bag. I learned that most of the
secretaries were more intelligent than most of the executives and that the
executive secretaries were to be feared more than anyone. I learned what
closed doors meant and that friendship was not negotiable currency and how
important it was to lie even when there was no need to lie. Words and
meanings were at odds. Words did not say what was being said nor even its
reverse. I learned to speak a new language and soon mastered the special
elements of that tongue.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Nei miei sogni scorrevano fiumi e peccati, occhi sbarrati di volti sommersi. Mi risvegliai nel silenzio e nel gelo, sotto l'occhio accusatore dei riflettori ad arco. La città traboccava di persone in cerca dell'uomo o della donna in grado di salvarle. Puzzavo di sudore freddo, alcol e paura. Il loft mi sembrava sconfinato, un'immagine ripescata dal fondo sabbioso di un sogno.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“That's great. Tell me about it. I hate my life. I'm at the point where I want to hear about other people's lives. it's like switching from fiction to biography. The beginning of the end.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“She means everything literally. Don't kid yourself about that lady. She means everything literally.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Weede si alzò in piedi per un secondo e piegò leggermente le ginocchia - come faceva sempre mio padre quando le mutande gli si incagliavano in qualche anfratto delle regioni inguinali, spiegando a me bambino che quel gesto era l'unica alternativa civile al disincagliamento manuale, sport preferito di emarginati e pazzi.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Quel po' di senso di colpa che provavo dipendeva dall'immagine di Jennifer sola e umiliata, non dal banale tradimento di Meredith. Per Jennifer io rimanevo un enigma. Rifiutavo di concederle la minima percezione di me, e la ragione posso solo immaginarla: avevo un bisogno disperato di ogni minima briciola del mio ego per vincere la paura di svanire io stesso.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“Meredith was not so secure in her maturity that she did not suffer those periods of despondency and doubt which seemed to weave through the lives of self-reliant women.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
tags: women
“Poco tempo fa sono andato a pranzo con un amico. Si è messo a piangere. Voleva costruirsi una barca e salpare per la Tasmania. Io gli ho riso in faccia. Una settimana dopo gli è venuta un'emorragia cerebrale. Non siamo capaci di imparare niente dagli stereotipi che ci circondano, neppure che siamo tutti uguali.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“This was the first of the St. Augustines. Previous memos had borne messages from Zwingli, Lévi-Strauss, Rilke, Chekhov, Tillich, William Blake, Charles Olson and a Kiowa chief named Satanta. Naturally the person responsible for these messages became known throughout the company as the Mad Memo-Writer. I never referred to him that way because it was much too obvious a name. I called him Trotsky. There was no special reason for choosing Trotsky; it just seemed to fit. I wondered if he was someone I knew. Everybody seemed to think he was probably a small grotesque man who had suffered many disappointments in life, who despised the vast impersonal structure of the network and who was employed in our forwarding department, the traditional repository for all sex offenders, mutants and vegetarians. They said he was most likely a foreigner who lived in a rooming house in Red Hook; he spent his nights reading an eight-volume treatise on abnormal psychology, in small type, and he told his grocer he had been a Talmudic scholar in the old country. This was the consensus and maybe it had a certain logic. But I found more satisfaction in believing that Trotsky was one of our top executives. He made eighty thousand dollars a year and stole paper clips from the office.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“I watched Buford set things up and I decided that tending bar might be a pretty good way to spend one's life. Spanking down big foaming steins of beer to be encircled by the huge skeet-shooting hands of virile novelists. Rattling the cocktail shaker and doing a little samba step for the amusement of the ladies. To be an expert at something.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“That night, after the movie, driving my father's car along the country roads, I began to wonder ho real the landscape truly was, and how much of a dream is a dream.”
Don DeLillo, Americana
“I couldn't help suspecting I had manufactured the whole thing, my need for him, simply to avoid what I considered to be the alternatives. This is one of my very annoying traits. I can't sit back and let something grow of its own momentum and eventually reveal its truth or horror. I must probe it from the outset.”
Don DeLillo, Americana

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