What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?
Interpretation
The quote suggests that stars are metaphoric expressions of human emotions, particularly fear and desire, within a divine context.
In this quote, Thomas Pynchon explores the relationship between the cosmic and the human experience. He likens stars to points in the divine essence of God, implying that our deepest fears and longings are intertwined with the universe's vastness. The 'healing needles' suggest that through confronting these emotions, we can find solace or understanding, as if our existential struggles are integral to the fabric of the cosmos.
In practice
In a speech about the universe and our place in it, one might use this quote to illustrate our emotional connection to the cosmos.
But a few choosing to venture deeper into the painful corridors of their affliction, found after a while that they could now grind and polish ever more exotic surfaces, hyperboloidial and even stranger, eventually including what we must term βimaginaryβ shapes (which some preferred to term invisible).
It's been a prevalent notion. Fallen sparks. Fragments of vessels broken at the Creation. And someday, somehow, before the end, a gathering back to home. A messenger from the Kingdom, arriving at the last moment. But I tell you there is no such message, no such home -- only the millions of last moments . . . nothing more. Our history is an aggregate of last moments.
So the city became the material expression of a particular loss of innocence β not sexual or political innocence but somehow a shared dream of what a city might at its best prove to be β its inhabitants became, and have remained, an embittered and amnesiac race, wounded but unable to connect through memory to the moment of injury, unable to summon the face of their violator.
Losing faith is a complicated business and takes time. There are no epiphanies, no "moments of truth." It takes much thought and concentration in the later phases, which thenselves come about through an accumulation of small accidents: examples of general injustice, misfortune falling upon the godly, prayers of one's own unanswered.
If there is something comforting - religious, if you want - about paranoia, there is still also anti-paranoia, where nothing is connected to anything, a condition not many of us can bear for long.
He gazes through sunlight's buttresses, back down the refectory at the others, wallowing in their plenitude of bananas, thick palatals of their hunger lost somewhere in the stretch of morning between them and himself. A hundred miles of it, so suddenly. Solitude, even among the meshes of this war, can when it wishes so take him by the blind gut and touch, as now, possessively. Pirate's again some other side of a window, watching strangers eat breakfast.
Desire itself is movement_x000D_ _x000D_ Not in itself desirable;_x000D_ _x000D_ Love is itself unmoving,_x000D_ _x000D_ Only the cause and end of movement,_x000D_ _x000D_ Timeless, and undesiring_x000D_ _x000D_ Except in the aspect of time_x000D_ _x000D_ Caught in the form of limitation_x000D_ _x000D_ Between un-being and being.
Everything is true,' he said. 'Everything anybody has ever thought.' 'Will you be all right?' 'I'll be all right,' he said, and thought, And I'm going to die. Both those are true, too.
I've said this over and over, but I'll say it a million more times - I'm concerned more about the death of a bee than I am about terrorism. Because we're losing hives and bees by the millions because of such strong pesticides.
Why does no one confess his sins? Because he is yet in them. It is for a man who has awoke from sleep to tell his dreams.
People derived too much pleasure from seeing their fellow man morally humiliated to spoil that pleasure by hearing out an explanation.
In the water I saw my father's face, and that face saw the face of its father, and so on, and so on, reflecting backward to the beginning of time, to the face of God, in whose image we were created.
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