Dog Soldiers Quotes

“I’ve been waiting my whole life to fuck up like this.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“I've always remembered. This fellow said to me - if you think someones'doing you wrong, it's not for you to judge. Kill them first and then God can do the judging.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“If you haven't fought for your life for something you want, you don't know what's life all about.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“The desires of the heart...are as crooked as a corkscrew.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“If you couldn't tell the difference between what hurt and what didn't, you had no business being alive. You can't have any good times if you can't tell.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“The richest fuckin' people in the richest country in the world - you gonna tell them some little guy in a hole in South America can have something they can't? Like shit, man. If the little guy in the hole can be a revolutionary, they can be revolutionaries too.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“He sat desiring the girl - a speed-hardened straw-colored junkie stewardess, a spoiled Augustana Lutheran, compounded of airport Muzak and beauty parlor school. Her eyes were fouled with smog and propane spray.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“Don't be afraid to ask for a rise, Sagittarius. Your boss always pay you less than your work is actually worth!”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“One insight was that the ordinary physical world through which one shuffled heedless and half-assed toward nonentity was capable of composing itself, at any time and without notice, into a massive instrument of agonizing death.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“There's an Arab blessing," Converse informed them, "'May the poetry of your love never turn to prose.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“So many people have it all figured out and they're all full of shit. It's sad.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“They say the world is coming to an end. They say that’s why it’s so fucked up.”

“Wishful thinking.” Marge said. “The world will go on for a million years.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“She was tired of the boy’s smile; it had something of the formal beatitude of hippie greeting, mindless acceptance soul to soul. It annoyed her to see those things on a child’s face.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“By the time night fell, their road led upward over the slopes of half-fallen mountains where broken boulders were piled on each other’s backs. In the twilight, the great rocks came to look like statues and the scrub pine growing from the crevices beneath them like offering flowers.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“One bright afternoon, near a place called Krek, Converse had watched with astonishment as the world of things transformed itself into a single overwhelming act of murder. In a manner of speaking he had discovered himself. Himself was a soft shell-less quivering thing encased in a hundred and sixty pounds of pink sweating meat. It was real enough. It tried to burrow into the earth. It wept.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“In the old days was the original bohemians. A lot of times the bohemian was really educated and a patron of art. Then you got the beatnik, maybe a lower class of person. Now you got fuckin' hippies everywhere.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“So they locked me up,” Danskin said. “I feigned madness. I babbled, I recited Heine. Nine years. Here I am.” They rode in silence for a while. “But you’re still pissed off.” “Now more than ever.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers

“In the course of being fragmentation-bombed by the South Vietnamese Air Force, Converse experienced several insights; he did not welcome them although they came as no surprise.
One insight was that the ordinary physical world through which one shuffled heedless and half-assed toward nonentity was capable of composing itself, at any time and without notice, into a massive instrument of agonizing death. Existence was a trap; the testy patience of things as they are might be exhausted at any moment.
Another was that in the single moment when the breathing world had hurled itself screeching and murderous at his throat, he had recognized the absolute correctness of its move. In those seconds, it seemed absurd that he had ever been allowed to go his foolish way, pursuing notions and small joys. He was ashamed of the casual arrogance with which he had presumed to scurry about creation. From the bottom of his heart, he concurred in the moral necessity of his destruction.”
― Robert Stone, Dog Soldiers