Ken Kesey Quotes

My face, my self, what would they mean to anybody? Just another stiff. So this self of mine passes some other's self on the street - what do we have to say to each other? Hey there! Hi ya!That's about it. Nobody raises a hand. No one turns around to take another look.

I tend to close my eyes when I look at people anymore.

I don’t understand people, never will. It looks like I got to travel pretty much alone.

I'm not very interested in people. I recognize it in myself - there is a basic indifference toward people.

I have contact with no one involved in the trial.

When you stop to think about it, so many films today where we don't have that kind of contact are films about alienation. About alienated feelings. We are much more alienated from our colleagues nowadays.

Fear invariably and universally induces disengagement, and disengagement is negative division of labor.

I'm used to living in a disassociated universe.

I have X'd myself from your world.

I'm not designed to interact with society.

More and more, I find myself turning away from everything relating to contemporary society. I don't know how healthy it is, but I am creating a very private bubble that I live in.

I feel like I'm in my own world: in the world but not a part of it.

I felt like I might as well have been living in another part of the solar system.

I wasn't that close to any of my teammates. I didn't find anyone to become a best friend. We don't stay in touch. They're all over the country, but I do not want to stay in touch.

I don't know what's the matter with me, why I'm so adept at distance, why I feel so remote from things, why life feels like a rumor.

You’re unbelievable,’ said Rosie. ‘Look at me when I’m talking.’ I kept looking out the window. I was already over-stimulated. ‘I know what you look like.

I came to the conclusion that people were just peculiar, I withdrew from them, and never thought about them until I was forced to.

All looked distant and peaceful and strange. The shore seemed refined, far away, unreal. Already the little distance they had sailed had put them far from it and given it the changed look, the composed look, of something receding in which one has no longer any part.

She won't give him back his look.

He was slumped in the back, gazing out of the window, as though his parents were two people who had picked him up hitchhiking, connected to him merely by chance and proximity.

We live on top of the created world, I think to myself, not in it.

I cannot hate them because nothing binds me to them; I have nothing in common with them.

People talking without speaking,/ People listening without hearing...Sounds of Silence.

I think we've unplugged and become very apathetic to a lot of things that are happening. There's so much going on and we're sort of disconnected.

Indifference pretends to create peace, but it is based on not caring, a silent resignation. It is a movement away, a separation fed by a subtle fear of the heart. We pull back, believing that what happens to others is not our concern. Our courage leaves us. Indifference is a misguided way of defending ourselves.