Hunter S. Thompson
Hunter S. Thompson
Hunter Stockton Thompsonwas an American journalist and author, and the founder of the gonzo journalism movement. Born in Louisville, Kentucky, to a middle-class family, Thompson had a turbulent youth after the death of his father left the family in poverty. He was unable to formally finish high school as he was incarcerated for 60 days after abetting a robbery. He subsequently joined the United States Air Force before moving into journalism. He traveled frequently, including stints in California, Puerto Rico,...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionJournalist
Date of Birth18 July 1937
CityLouisville, KY
CountryUnited States of America
Good people drink good beer.
I will fight for your right to be weird- just as I know you will fight for mine.
We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold.
Stay naked as much as possible, but do not impose your orgiastic will on others. Don't have sex in the lobby - it's usually awkward.
Sane is rich and powerful. Insane is wrong and poor and weak. The rich are free, the poor are put in cages. Res Ipsa Loquitur, amen. Mahalo.
Never fire a warning shot. It is a waste of ammunition.
Today's pig is tomorrows bacon!
Things are no longer what they seem to be. My telephones are haunted, and animals whisper at me from unseen places.
Don't have sex in the lobby - it's usually awkward.
We can't stop here, this is bat country!
All golfers fear the one-iron. It has no angle, no loft. The one-iron is a confidence-crusher, a fear trip, an almost guarantee of shame, failure, dumbness and humiliation if you ever use it in public.
Every reaction is a learning process; every significant experience alters your perspective. So it would seem foolish, would it not, to adjust our lives to the demands of a goal we see from a different angle everyday? How could we ever hope to accomplish anything anther than galloping neurosis?
If you work in either journalism or politics... you will be flogged for being right and flogged for being wrong, and it hurts both ways-but it doesn't hurt as much when you're right.
It was a maddening image and the only way to whip it was to hang on until dusk and banish the ghosts with rum.