To hell with facts! We need stories.
Take what you can use and let the rest go by.
Plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom.
I’ve never seen crack or a lot of these new drugs. Don’t know anything about them. I don’t know what they do for you, or whether they do anything good for you or not. But I do still have a lot of faith in the spiritual purity of LSD and pot.
The truth doesn’t have to do with cruelty, the truth has to do with mercy.
You’ve got to get out and pray to the sky to appreciate the sunshine; otherwise you’re just a lizard standing there with the sun shining on you.
I’ve found psychedelics to be keys to worlds that have always existed, that have to be talked about.
Sometimes I looked at them and sometimes they looked at me, but rarely did we look at one another.
There’s something about taking a plow and breaking new ground. It gives you energy.
I’d rather be a lightning rod than a seismograph.
He knows that you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just to keep the world from running you plumb crazy.
I listened to them fade away till all I could hear was my memory of the sound.
I’d take a look at my own self in the mirror and wonder how it was possible that anybody could manage such an enormous thing as being what he was.
The Grateful Dead are our religion. This is a religion that doesn’t pay homage to the God that all the other religions pay homage to.
Your trouble is, you keep trying to unscrew the unscrutable.
No, my friend. We are lunatics from the hospital up the highway, psycho-ceramics, the cracked pots of mankind. Would you like me to decipher a Rorschach for you?
Memory whispers someplace in that jumbled machinery.
It’s time to move on to the next step in the psychedelic revolution. We’ve reached a certain point, but we’re not moving any more.
High high in the hills, high in a pine tree bed. She’s tracing the wind with that old hand, counting the clouds with that old chant, Three geese in a flock one flew east one flew west one flew over the cuckoo’s nest.
Leary can get a part of my mind that’s kind of rusted shut grinding again, just by being around him and talking.