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“I like Verdi and Puccini. All we get in New York is heavy German bombastic Wagner and Orff,
Crouching before the screen, the youths of the village—and often the elders as well—saw words. Instructions. How to read, first. Then the rest. How to dig a deeper well. Plow a deeper furrow. How to purify their water, heal their sick.
a state is no better than its leader. Fuhrerprinzip—Principle of Leadership, like the Nazis say.
What is wanted is the deed. Theory derives from action. What our corporate state demands from us is comprehension of the social forces—of history.
Real issue in war was: old versus new. Money—that’s why Nazis dragged Jewish question mistakenly into it—versus communal mass spirit, what Nazis call Gemeinschaft—folkness.
You never find true Fascist talking, only doing—like
“I’m explaining Fascist theory of action!”
a man can never buy his own clothes.”
truckload of those Tokkoka toughs
goddam these police, he thought. They get stronger all the time.
Who really is Germany? Who ever was?
We are all doomed to commit acts of cruelty or violence or evil; that is our destiny, due to ancient factors.
some big names from Europe, like Eleanor Perez or Willie Beck.
He even hopped out and assisted in turning the cable car around on its wooden turntable. That, of all experiences in the city, had the most meaning for him, customarily.
your Anglo-Saxon fanaticism does not appeal to me.”
Sometimes one must try anything, he decided. It is no disgrace. On the contrary, it is a sign of wisdom, of recognizing the situation.
Awaken the deity inside. Peradventure he sleepeth. Or he is on a journey.
Metal is from the earth, he thought as he scrutinized. From below: from that realm which is the lowest, the most dense. Land of trolls and caves, dank, always dark. Yin world, in its most melancholy aspect. World of corpses, decay and collapse. Of feces. All that has died, slipping and disintegrating back down layer by layer. The daemonic world of the immutable; the time-that-was. And yet, in the sunlight, the silver triangle glittered. It reflected light. Fire,
Bardo Thodol
I intend to read famous diary by Massachusetts’ ancient divine, Goodman C. Mather. Deals, I am told, with guilt and hell-fire, et al.”
“Chicken shit,” Mr. Tagomi said. “I say that to that.”
Will that put an end to all life, of every kind, everywhere? When our planet becomes a dead planet, by our own hands?
Even if all life on our planet is destroyed, there must be other life somewhere which we know nothing of. It is impossible that ours is the only world; there must be world after world unseen by us, in some region or dimension that we simply do not perceive.
Why struggle, then? Why choose? If all alternatives are the same . . .
We can only control the end by making a choice at each step. He thought, We can only hope. And try.
We do not have the ideal world, such as we would like, where morality is easy because cognition is easy. Where one can do right with no effort because he can detect the obvious.
At six-fifteen in the evening she finished the book.
I’ll bet I am; nobody else really understands Grasshopper but me—they just imagine they do.
He told us about our own world,
Is this the High Castle?
his eyes seemed purple or brown,
How did you know all that, about the other world you wrote about?”
“There’s a great deal in this world worth the candle, in my opinion.”
One by one Hawth made the choices.
“I wonder why the oracle would write a novel. Did you ever think of asking it that? And why one about the Germans and the Japanese losing the war?
The question implies I did nothing but the typing, and that’s neither true nor decent.”
“It’s not your question to ask,”
“You have a disconcertingly superstitious way of phrasing your question,”
‘This girl is a daemon. A little chthonic spirit that—” He lifted his hand and rubbed his eyebrow, partially dislodging his glasses in doing so. “That roams tirelessly over the face of the earth.” He restored his glasses in place. “She’s doing what’s instinctive to her, simply expressing her being. She didn’t mean to show up here and do harm; it simply happened to her, just as the weather happens to us.
Will Cook