Tim O'Brien > Quotes

“Mrs. Kooshof's intolerance for complexity, for the looping circuitry of a well-told tale, symptomizes an epidemic disease of our modern world. (I see it daily among my students. The short attention span, the appetite limited to linearity. Too much Melrose Place.)”
― Tim O'Brien, Tomcat in Love

“Down inside, of course, I wasn't sure, and yet I had to see her one more time. What I needed, I suppose, was some sort of final confirmation, something to carry with me when she was gone.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“If you weren't humping, you were waiting. I remember the monotony. Digging foxholes. Slapping mosquitoes. The sun and the heat and the endless paddies. Even in the deep bush, where you could die any number of ways, the war was nakedly and aggressively boring. But it was a strange boredom. It was boredom with a twist, the kind of boredom that caused stomach disorders. You'd be sitting at the top of a high hill, the flat paddies stretching out below, and the day would be calm and hot and utterly vacant, and you'd feel the boredom dripping inside you like a leaky faucet, except it wasn't water, it was a sort of acid, and with each little droplet you'd feel the stuff eating away at important organs. You'd try to relax. You'd uncurl your fists and let your thoughts go. Well, you'd think, this isn't so bad. And right then you'd hear gunfire behind you and your nuts would fly up into your throat and you'd be squealing pig squeals. That kind of boredom.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“I hated him for making me stop hating him”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“The days seemed to stretch out toward infinity, blank and humid, without purpose, and at night I was kept awake by the endless drone of mosquitoes and helicopters. (Why wars must be contested under such conditions I shall never understand. Is not death sufficient?)”
― Tim O'Brien, Tomcat in Love

“Is there sound, he wondered, without reception? Do you hear the shot that gets you? How big, in fact, was the Big Bang? Do our pathetic earthly squeals fall upon deaf ears? Is silence golden or common stone.”
― Tim O'Brien, In the Lake of the Woods

“You learn, finally, that you'll die, and so you try to hang on to your own life, that gentle, naive kid you used to be, but then after a while the sentiment takes over, and the sadness, because you know for a fact that you can't ever bring any of it back again. You just can't.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“Not a minister," he said, "but I do like churches. The way it feels inside. It feels good when you just sit there, like you're in a forest and everything's really quiet, except there's still this sound you can't hear.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“The day was cloudy. I passed through towns with familiar last names, through the pine forests and down to the prairie, and then to Vietnam, where I was a soldier, and then home again. I survived, but it's not a happy ending. I was a coward. I went to the war.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“What is love, for God's sake, if not the most distilled obsession?”
― Tim O'Brien, Tomcat in Love

“Если ты хочешь помочь твоему ветерану, избегай церквей, приписывающих зло потусторонним силам – например, дьяволу, соблазняющему людей или вселяющемуся в них. Дело, в частности, в том, что, представляя себя жертвой внешнего воздействия («дьявол меня на это толкнул»), человек не может выработать зрелой самооценки, предполагающей развитие и обогащение от жизненного опыта.

Пейшенс Мейсон. «Выздоровление от войны»”
― Tim O'Brien, In the Lake of the Woods

“In the next days it took little provocation for us to flick the flint of our Zippo lighters. Thatched roofs take the flame quickly, and on bad days the hamlets of Pinkville burned, taking our revenge in fire. It was good to walk from Pinkville and to see fire behind Alpha Company. It was good, just as pure hate is good.”
― Tim O'Brien, If I Die in a Combat Zone, Box Me Up and Ship Me Home

“A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human be-havior, nor restrain men from doing the things men have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie.”
― Tim O'Brien

“There it is, they'd say. Over and over—there it is, my friend, there it is
—as if the repetition itself were an act of poise, a balance between crazy
and almost crazy, knowing without going, there it is, which meant be
cool, let it ride, because Oh yeah, man, you can't change what can't be
changed, there it is, there it absolutely and positively and fucking well is.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“Well, God," I said, "you're dead."

Linda smiled. It was a secret smile, as if she knew things nobody could ever know, and she reached out and touched my wrist and said, "Timmy, stop crying. It doesn't matter.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“There were red checkers and black checkers. The playing field was laid out in a strict grid, no tunnels or mountains or jungles. You knew where you stood. You knew the score. The pieces were out on the board, the enemy was visible, you could watch the tactics unfolding into larger strategies. There was a winner and a loser. There were rules.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“Psychology—that was one thing I knew. You don't try to scare people in

broad daylight. You wait. Because the darkness squeezes you inside

yourself, you get cut off from the outside world, the imagination

takes over. That's basic psychology. I'd pulled enough night guard to

know how the fear factor gets multiplied as you sit there hour after

hour, nobody to talk to, nothing to do but stare into the big black

hole at the center of your own sorry soul”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“I'm young and happy. I'll never die.”
― Tim O'Brien

“Когда ты разоблачен, перестаешь бояться разоблачения.”
― Tim O'Brien, In the Lake of the Woods

“when you're dead, you just have to be yourself.”
― Tim O'Brien

“But truly it was not the money that mattered. It was the distant glitter of everything that was possible in the world, the things she had always wanted for herself and could not name and called happiness because there was no other word.”
― Tim O'Brien

“Nostalgia-- that's the basic sickness, and I never heard of a doctor who can cure it.”
― Tim O'Brien

“Looking back after twenty years, I sometimes wonder if the events of that summer didn’t happen in some other dimension, a place where your life exists before you’ve lived it, and where it goes afterward.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“He killed me at the Scrabble board, barely concentrating, and on those occasions when speech was necessary he had a way of compressing large thoughts into small, cryptic packets of language.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“Fakat şu da doğru; hikayeler bizi kurtarabilir.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“After that long night in the rain, I’d seemed to grow cold inside, all the illusions gone, all the old ambitions and hopes for myself sucked away into the mud. Over the years, that coldness had never entirely disappeared. There were times in my life when I couldn’t feel much, not sadness or pity or passion, and somehow I blamed this place for what I had become, and I blamed it for taking away the person I had once been. For twenty years this field had embodied all the waste that was Vietnam, all the vulgarity and horror. Now, it was just what it was. Flat and dreary and unremarkable.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“War is brutal. Civilians just suffer through it”
― Tim O'Brien, If I Die in a Combat Zone, Box Me Up and Ship Me Home

“Some things they carried in common. Taking turns they carried the big PRC-77 scrambler radio, which weighed 30 pounds with its battery. They shared the weight of memory. They took up what others could no longer bear. Often, they carried each other, the wounded or weak. They carried infections. They carried chess sets, basketballs, Vietnamese-English dictionaries, insignia of rank, Bronze stars and Purple Hearts, plastic cards imprinted with the Code of Conduct. They carried diseases, among them malaria and dysentery. They carried lice and ringworm and leeches and paddy algae and various rots and molds. They carried the land itself - Vietnam, the place, the soil - a powdery orange-red dust that covered their boots and fatigues and faces. They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity. They moved like mules.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

“Sun and waves and gentle winds, all love and lightness.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried