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He Who Marches Out Of Step Hears Another Drum

Ken Kesey

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Ken Kesey
Age: 66 †
Born: 1935
Born: September 17
Died: 2001
Died: November 10
Author
Essayist
Novelist
Writer
La Junta
Colorado
Kenneth Kesey
Kenneth Elton Kesey
Ken Elton Kesey
Ken E. Kesey
O. U. Levon
Drum
Hears
March
Step
Steps
Another
Marches

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You don't plow under the corn because the seed was planted with a neighbor's shovel.
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But it's the truth even if it didn't happen.
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There are going to be times when we can't wait for somebody. Now, you're either on the bus or off the bus. If you're on the bus, and you get left behind, then you'll find it again. If you're off the bus in the first place — then it won't make a damn.
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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.
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To hell with facts! We need stories.
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The man who seeks revenge digs two graves.
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If grass were legalized, it would help our drug problem enormously.
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Memory whispers someplace in that jumbled machinery.
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Men are forever eager to press drink upon those they consider their superiors, hoping thereby to eliminate that distinction between them.... And women, when confronted by superiors, substitute for drink the crippling liquor of their sex.
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I sometimes have these spells of compulsive truth. But as Lady Macbeth would say, The fit is momentary.
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You don't lead by pointing and telling people some place to go. You lead by going to that place and making a case.
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What makes people so impatient is what I can't figure all the guy had to do was wait.
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- he's finished with that it's like an old clock that won't tell time but won't stop neither, with the hands bent out of shape and the face bare of numbers and the alarm bell rusted silent, an old worthless clock that just keeps ticking and cuckooing without meaning nothing.
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There’s no doubt in my mind that McMurphy’s won, but I’m not sure what.
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Then - as he was talking - a set of tail-lights going past lit up McMurphy's face, and the windshield reflected an expression that was allowed only because he figured it'd be too dark for anybody in the car to see, dreadfully tired and strained and frantic, like there wasn't enough time left for something he had to do.
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What do you think you are, for Chrissake, crazy or somethin'? Well you're not! You're not! You're no crazier than the average asshole out walkin' around on the streets and that's it.
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If you've got love in your heart, whatever you do from that moment out is likely to be right. If you've got that one true note ringing inside you, then whatever you do is going to be OK.
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I've been to too many Dead concerts. There've been smokin' holes where my memory used to be.
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Ritual is necessary for us to know anything.
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The best of all possible cages.' Ben stepped back to regard the job with a sad smile. 'What more can one ask?
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