Ralph Steadman Quotes

Beware of privilege. It stinks of rotten rotten fish heads, many of which were lapping the shore beneath the jetties.

America is ripe for lies and lethargy. The pure mountain air is going and gone. It is a huge burden and a sadness for us all.

At least my mural of Leonardo da Vinci still exists on the wall of their offices, which were subsequently taken over by Expedia. They had the wall insured.

Funny thing about Americans. They are the first to adopt weird lifestyles and radical views but they are the most conservative race on earth.

I was in a slightly befuddled state by this time and the potent combination of watery beer and whiskey was bringing on a severe attack of drawing, as always happens when I start seeing unusual faces through a haze of controlled drinking. My body becomes a protective casing and lets me observe through the two keyholes on the front of my head.

Let me say it here and now. For all Hunter's mindless self-indulgence, which is legendary and crude, he always impressed me with his blind, selfless urge to cut out the crony bestiality of modern society and the political economy that scarred the era.

'Happiness is a Small Politician' - my mantra then and forever more.

I don't think that at the time, or now, come to think of it, I gave a damn. Foolishly, I wanted truth and idealism, but there was none to be had.

We thought that we had suffered all our wars and now we could enjoy a time of peace and tranquillity. However, people never learn and a newer type of war was to envelope us. We seem doomed to repeat all our mistakes and find that we are being groomed, and doomed, by the legions of war, Odin's messengers, who would have us believe that aggression is the only way forward. Now we live in a war zone, the entire world.

Americans live with the certain knowledge that the source of their greatness has not yet been released.

What actually happened was that Rolling Stone paid me fifteen hundred dollars for the use of all the drawings - about twenty four of them - and then offered to buy the originals from me, which my agent urged 'was a good move!'. He sold the whole damn treasure trove to Jann Wenner for the princely sum of sixty dollars per drawing. I rue the day I let him convince me.

Where is Winnie the Pooh without it's illustrations?

Hunter Thompson wasn't Joseph Conrad, Jimmy Carter wasn't Harry Trueman. But strangely, Richard Nixon was Richard Nixon. I'm no Pablo Picasso but there's no harm in straining. After all, the charm of any activity is in the trying and so rarely in the finished article.

Today we are sacks of shit bundled into flying tubes with a security warning secreted inside every orifice.

' Don't write, Ralph. You'll bring shame on your family. ' -- Hunter S. Thompson --