Ken Kesey
Ken Kesey
Kenneth Elton "Ken" Keseywas an American novelist, essayist, and countercultural figure. He considered himself a link between the Beat Generation of the 1950s and the hippies of the 1960s...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth17 September 1935
CityLa Junta, CO
CountryUnited States of America
writing famous-writers enjoyed
I've enjoyed being a famous writer-except that every once in a while you have to write something.
drug helping problem
If grass were legalized, it would help our drug problem enormously.
dog fear hate
A sound of cornered-animal fear and hate and surrender and defiance . . . like the last sound the treed and shot and falling animal makes as the dogs get him, when he finally doesn't care about anything but himself and his dying.
memorable people dumb
But I remember one thing: it wasn't me that started acting deaf; it was people that first started acting like I was too dumb to hear or see or say anything at all
honesty too-much
Don't say it...I've seen too many loves sundered by too much needless honesty.
life love-is thinking
Major part of the Southern California pop scene in the 60s "People think that love is an emotion. Love is good sense."
time moving
Anesthetized time; nothing moves and everything is at once.
time wind spiders
Time overlaps itself. A breath breathed from a passing breeze is not the whole wind, neither is it just the last of what has passed and the first of what will come, but is more--let me see--more like a single point plucked on a single strand of a vast spider web of winds, setting the whole scene atingle. That way; it overlaps ... as prehistoric ferns grow from bathtub planters.
dragons
To Vik Lovell who told me dragons did not exist, then led me to their lairs ...
missing insane forget
You seem to forget, Miss Flinn, that this is an institution for the insane.
life eye cuckoos
They can't tell so much about you if you got your eyes closed.
thinking feet trying
His whole body shakes with the strain as he tries to lift something he knows he can't lift, something everybody knows he can't lift. But, for just a second, when we hear the cement grind at our feet, we think, by golly, he might do it.
fighting want littles
If this glorious birth to death hassle is the only hassle we are ever to have ..if our grand exhilarating fight of life is such a tragically short little scrap anyway,compared to the eons of rounds before and after-then why should one want to relinquish even a few precious seconds of it?
thinking cracks cover-ups
Then the trembling starts to get worse. This must be how they begin, he thinks. Freak-outs. Breakdowns. Crack-ups. Eventually shut-ins and finally cross-offs. But first the cover-up . . .