White Noise Don Delillo Quotes & Sayings

Don DeLillo's 'White Noise,' which I read when I was 19. It showed me that a book can be funny as hell and deadly serious. — Kevin Barry

In the world of art, as in the whole of creation, freedom and progress are the main objectives. — Ludwig Van Beethoven

Along some northern coast at sundown a beaten gold light is waterborne, sweeping across lakes and tracing zigzag rivers to the sea, and we know we're in transit again, half numb to the secluded beauty down there, the slate land we're leaving behind, the peneplain, to cross these rainbands in deep night. This is time totally lost to us. We don't remember it. We take no sense impressions with us, no voices, none of the windy blast of the aircraft on the tarmac, or the white noise of flight, or the hours waiting. Nothing sticks to us but smoke in our hair and clothes. It is dead time. It never happened until it happens again. Then it never happened. — Don DeLillo

Sounds like a boring life."
"I hope it lasts forever," she said. — Don DeLillo

The prayer of the monk is not perfect until he no longer recognizes himself or the fact that he is praying. — Anthony Of Padua

We love playing music but we're too weird to play music. — Wayne Coyne

Once you've seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn. — Don DeLillo

Every guy knows he can find a girl who is simply satisfied with satisfying him. They are much more turnd on by a woman who cares about her own pleasures as well. — Sherry Argov

Do you think I'm somehow healthier because I don't know how to repress? Is it possible that constant fear is the natural state of man and that by living close to my fear I am actually doing something heroic, Murray?"
Do you feel heroic?"
No."
Then you probably aren't. — Don DeLillo

The beginning of men's rebellion against God was, and is, the lack of a thankful heart. — Francis Schaeffer

Can human nature be so entirely transformed inside and out? Can man, created by God, be made wicked by man? Can a soul be so completely changed by its destiny, and turn evil when its fate is evil? Can the heart become distorted, contract incurable deformities and incurable infirmities, under the pressure of disproportionate grief, like the spinal column under a low ceiling? Is there not in every human soul a primitive spark, a divine element, incorruptible in this world and immortal in the next, which can be developed by goodness, kindled, lit up, and made to radiate, and which evil can never entirely extinguish. — Victor Hugo

I never kill insects. If I see ants or spiders in the room, I pick them up and take them outside. Karma is everything. — Holly Valance