Quotes from Virtual Light

William Gibson ·  304 pages

Rating: (19.2K votes)


“Well,' Rydell said, trying to pick up his end, 'I was watching this one old movie last night-'

Sublett perked up. 'Which one?'

Dunno,' Rydell said. 'This guy's in L.A. and he's just met this girl. Then he picks up a pay phone, 'cause it's ringing. Late at night. It's some guy in a missile silo somewhere who knows they've just launched theirs at the Russians. He's trying to phone his dad, or his brother, or something. Says the world's gonna end in short order. Then the guy who answered the phone hears these soldiers come in and shoot the guy. The guy on the phone, I mean.'

Suhlett closed his eyes, scanning his inner trivia-banks. 'Yeah? How's it end?'

Dunno,' Rydell said. 'I went to sleep.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“Berry,” Pursley said, “you’re in trouble, son. A cop. And an honest one. In trouble. In deep, spectacular, and, please, I have to say this, clearly heroic shit.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“They'd run all these tests on him and decided he wasn't racist. He wasn't, either, but not because he thought about it particularly. He just couldn't see the point. It just made for a lot of hassle, being that way, so why be that way? Nobody was going to go back and live where they lived before, were they, and if they did (he vaguely suspected) there wouldn't be any Mongolian barbecue and maybe we'd all be listening to Pentecostal Metal and anyway the President was black.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“How it was, when you lost things, it was like you only knew for the first time that you'd ever had them. (...) You didn't wake up every morning and say yes and yes to every little thing. But little things were what it was all made of. Or just somebody to see, there, when you woke up.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“Neighborhoods that mainly operated at night had a way of looking a lot worse in the morning.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light



“They had remained silent during the trial, their leader stating only that the disease was God’s vengeance on sinners and the unclean. Lean men with shaven heads and blank, implacable eyes, they were God’s gunmen, and would stare, as such, from all the tapes of history, forever. But”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“The dream recedes, but leaves a residue.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“But this feeling had come, that day, and swallowed everything up inside it, so big you couldn’t really prove it was there except by an arithmetic of absence and the memory of better days.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“His toes were making little squelching noises, each time he took a step, and what if the last thing you knew before you died was just some pathetic discomfort like that, like your shoes were soaked and your socks were wet, and you weren’t ever going to get to change them? Rydell”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


“Stormin’,” he said, like he was glad to note the world outside continuing on any recognizable course at all, however drastic.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light



“Ain’t all that simple,” he said. “It’s everything I been brought up to be. Can’t all be bullshit, can it?” Rydell, glancing over at him, took pity. “Naw,” he said, “I guess it wouldn’t have to be, necessarily, all of it, but it’s just—” “What they bring you all up to be, Berry?” Rydell had to think about it. “Republican,” he said, finally.”
― William Gibson, quote from Virtual Light


About the author

William Gibson
Born place: in Conway, South Carolina, The United States
Born date March 17, 1948
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“Buckley followed the three of them into the kitchen and asked, as he had at least once a day, “Where’s Susie?”

They were silent. Samuel looked at Lindsey.

“Buckley,” my father called from the adjoining room, “come play Monopoly with me.”

My brother had never been invited to play Monopoly. Everyone said he was too young, but this was the magic of Christmas. He rushed into the family room, and my father picked him up and sat him on his lap.

“See this shoe?” my father said.

Buckley nodded his head.

“I want you to listen to everything I say about it, okay?”

“Susie?” my brother asked, somehow connecting the two.

“Yes, I’m going to tell you where Susie is.”

I began to cry up in heaven. What else was there for me to do?

“This shoe was the piece Susie played Monopoly with,” he said. “I play with the car or sometimes the wheelbarrow. Lindsey plays with the iron, and when you mother plays, she likes the cannon.”

“Is that a dog?”

“Yes, that’s a Scottie.”

“Mine!”

“Okay,” my father said. He was patient. He had found a way to explain it. He held his son in his lap, and as he spoke, he felt Buckley’s small body on his knee-the very human, very warm, very alive weight of it. It comforted him. “The Scottie will be your piece from now on. Which piece is Susie’s again?”

“The shoe?” Buckley asked.

“Right, and I’m the car, your sister’s the iron, and your mother is the cannon.”

My brother concentrated very hard.

“Now let’s put all the pieces on the board, okay? You go ahead and do it for me.”

Buckley grabbed a fist of pieces and then another, until all the pieces lay between the Chance and Community Chest cards.

“Let’s say the other pieces are our friends?”

“Like Nate?”

“Right, we’ll make your friend Nate the hat. And the board is the world. Now if I were to tell you that when I rolled the dice, one of the pieces would be taken away, what would that mean?”

“They can’t play anymore?”

“Right.”

“Why?” Buckley asked.

He looked up at my father; my father flinched.

“Why?” my brother asked again.

My father did not want to say “because life is unfair” or “because that’s how it is”. He wanted something neat, something that could explain death to a four-year-old He placed his hand on the small of Buckley’s back.

“Susie is dead,” he said now, unable to make it fit in the rules of any game. “Do you know what that means?”

Buckley reached over with his hand and covered the shoe. He looked up to see if his answer was right.

My father nodded. "You won’t see Susie anymore, honey. None of us will.” My father cried. Buckley looked up into the eyes of our father and did not really understand.

Buckley kept the shoe on his dresser, until one day it wasn't there anymore and no amount of looking for it could turn up.”
― Alice Sebold, quote from The Lovely Bones


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