American author (1927-1989)
Culture is that inert mass of institutions and organizations which accumulate around and tend to drag down the advance of life.
EDWARD ABBEY
"Episodes and Visions", Desert Solitaire
Freedom begins between the ears.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards.
EDWARD ABBEY
attributed, Saving Nature's Legacy
Quantum mechanics provides us with an approximate, plausible, conjectural explanation of what actually is, or was, or may be taking place inside a cyclotron during a dark night in February.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
The conservatives love their cheap labor; the liberals love their cheap cause.
EDWARD ABBEY
The Serpents of Paradise
May your trails be dim, lonesome, stony, narrow, winding and only slightly uphill.
EDWARD ABBEY
preface, Beyond the Wall: Essays from the Outside
One thing more dangerous than getting between a grizzly sow and her cub is getting between a businessman and a dollar bill.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
Science is the whore of industry and the handmaiden of war.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
With the neutron bomb, which destroys life but not property, capitalism has found the weapon of its dreams.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
Reason is the newest and rarest thing in human life, the most delicate child of human history.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
Somewhere in the depths of solitude, beyond wilderness and freedom, lay the trap of madness.
EDWARD ABBEY
The Monkey Wrench Gang
As a confirmed melancholic, I can testify that the best and maybe only antidote for melancholia is action. However, like most melancholics, I suffer also from sloth.
EDWARD ABBEY
A Voice Crying in the Wilderness (Vox Clamantis in Deserto)
If I were a millionaire--well, a multimillionaire--I'd buy me an old ferryboat like the Eureka, make a floating home of it. What a grand ballroom, what a place for parties. And when I tired of the social hubbub, I'd weigh anchor and steam away to some romantic hideaway like Richmond, Oakland, or South San Francisco. East San Mateo too might be worth investigating.
EDWARD ABBEY
One Life at a Time, Please