Allen Ginsberg Quotes

False emotions broadcast thru the Land

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks! Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men! Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jail-house and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments! Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!

Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower?

I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?

You too must seek the sun...

Candor disarms paranoia.

I am miserable now — not feeling unhappiness, just lack of life coming to me and coming out of me — resignation to getting nothing and seeking nothing, staying behind shell. The glare of unknown love, human, unhad by me, — the tenderness I never had. I don’t want to be just a nothing, a sick blank, withdrawal into myself forever. I just want something, beside the emptiness I’ve carried around in me all my life.

Happiness exists I feel it.
I cried for my soul, I cried for the world's soul.
The world has a beautiful soul.

Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns? This is my rocket my personal rocket I send up my message Beyond Someone to hear me there

You can own an elephant or a bank or power thereof but if there's no personal breast bliss all you own is a lot of dead atoms and ideas.

fortunately all governments will fall
the only ones which won't fall are the good ones
and the good ones don't yet exist

I do not wish to escape to myself, I wish to escape from myself. I wish to obliterate my consciousness and my knowledge of independent existence, my guilts, my secretiveness.

Who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish.

Scream in despair over Meat and Metal Microphone

You know me now. I’m only good at beginnings.