Hippies Quotes

“Ignore that nightmare in the bathroom. Just another ugly refugee from the Love Generation, some doom-struck gimp who couldn't handle the pressure. My attorney has never been able to accept the notion—often espoused by reformed drug abusers and especially popular among those on probation—that you can get a lot higher without drugs than with them. And neither have I, for that matter.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

“The hippies wanted peace and love. We wanted Ferraris, blondes and switchblades.”
― Alice Cooper

“When a trapper entered the valley, I reflected back on my life as an Indian. "I'm sure as an Indian living  on the plains, I trapped animals for their fur and for their meat, I took what I needed for survival, but doing it for profit somehow rubbed me the wrong way”
― John-Paul Cernak, The Odyssey of a Hippie Marijuana Grower

“Barefoot conducts his seminars on his houseboat in Sausalito. It costs a hundred dollars to find out why we are on this Earth. You also get a sandwich, but I wasn't hungry that day. John Lennon had just been killed and I think I know why we are on this Earth; it's to find out that what you love the most will be taken away from you, probably due to an error in high places rather than by design.”
― Philip K. Dick

“When we heard about the hippies, the barely more than boys and girls who decided to try something different ... we laughed at them. We condemned them, our children, for seeking a different future. We hated them for their flowers, for their love, and for their unmistakable rejection of every hideous, mistaken compromise that we had made throughout our hollow, money-bitten, frightened, adult lives”
― June Jordan, Passion

“In reality punk people are usually the gentlest, kindest folks you'll ever know. They're like hippies, only they wear way more black.”
― Kate Rockland, Falling Is Like This

“There's a limit to my patience with anything that smacks of metaphysics. I squirm at the mention of "mind expansion" or "warm healing energy." I don't like drum circles, public nudity or strangers touching my feet.”
― Koren Zailckas, Fury: A Memoir

“All things old become new again. In my youth the athletes had crew cuts and the hippies had long hair. Now the athletes have long hair and the hippies are bald.”
― Harley King

“Nothing like being scolded by a hippie.”
― Sarah Dessen

“Nowhere have I ever heard of Satan taking the form of an avuncular hippie. No doubt he could. It just seems inefficient.”
― Nick Harkaway, The Gone-Away World

“the fact that they stole their whole shtick from Woody Guthrie and the coal-mining bards. While the alternative nation meows about personal fashion angst, the Appalachian nation still sings about unemployment.”
― Jim Goad, The Redneck Manifesto: How Hillbillies, Hicks, and White Trash Became America's Scapegoats

“I wanna say hello to all the ex-hippies tonight. I've never been a hippie myself but I'm an honorary hippie.”
― Bob Dylan

“Jasper notes that Jesus's disciples were, essentially, hippies: long hair, gowns, stoner expressions, irregular employment, spiritual convictions, dubious sleeping arrangements and a guru.”
― David Mitchell, Utopia Avenue

“Jesus Christ, it's like living with Stevie bloody Nicks,' I said, 'only without the cocaine, which would be more fun.”
― Emily Perkins, Novel About My Wife

“When the hippie era ended and the hangover began, as idealism gives way to disillusionment, the hair of the marchers and street-dancers kept getting longer, and soon it began to tangle. Free love deteriorated into loveless promiscuity, our great electric Kool-Aid acid test churned out an entire generation of burnt-out old relics, and the hair, once a symbol of freedom, became symbolic of the new face of prison, a lawlessness which taken to its logical extreme would imprison all of society as our growing criminal element took to the streets.”
― Tommy Walker, Monstrous: The Autobiography of a Serial Killer but for the Grace of God

“He tans into burning while the opening fanfare to "Peaches en Regalia" flows over him, the bugle call for a hippie army that marched at the peak of the American parabola, that moment when physics held its breath to allow levitation, a small reward before the descent. The hippies knew it then, Maggot Boy Johnson thinks; they couldn't build it into words but they could feel it; a floating in the stomach as history shifted direction. They stopped, hey, what's that sound, and knew that the spiny skyscrapers reflected in the river, the chasms of concrete, the wide streets and sidewalks, the power lines cutting into the hills and mountains above missile silos, the highways drawing lines across the blank plains under enormous skies, the pupil of God's eye, would be the ruins that their grandchildren wandered among, the reminders that once there was always water in the faucet, there was electricity all the time, and America was prying off the shackles of its past. The vision opened up to them and winked out again, and those it blinded staggered through their lives unable to see anything else, while the rest of them wondered if they had only dreamed it.”
― Brian Francis Slattery, Liberation: Being the Adventures of the Slick Six After the Collapse of the United States of America

“So this general with the background in intelligence who is supposed to conquer Afghanistan can't even figure out what Rolling Stone is? We're not talking Guns & Ammo here; we're talking the antiwar hippie magazine.”
― Maureen Dowd

“Ricky Marigold was his name up at the commune. He was seventeen, had run away from home in Pacoima and was a righteous grasshead. He wasn't a bad kid, just fucked up. He was for: love, truth, gentleness, getting high, staying high, good sounds, pleasant weather, funky clothes and rapping with his friends. He was against: Viet Nam, the Laws with their riot sticks, violence, bigotry, random hatred, nine-to-five jobs, squares who tried to get you to conform, grass full of seeds and stems, and bringdowns in general.
He met Jack Gardiner on the corner of Laurel Canyon and Sunset, across from Schwab's where the starlets went to show off their asses. He saw Jack Gardiner as a little too old to be making the scene, but the guy looked flaky enough: lumberjack shirt, good beard, bright eyes; and he seemed to be friendly enough.
So Ricky invited him to come along.
They walked up Laurel Canyon, hunching along next to the curb on the sidewalkless street. "Gonna be a quiet scene," Ricky said. "Just a buncha beautiful people groovin' on themselves, maybe turning on, you know." The older man nodded; his hands were deep in his pants pockets.
They walked quite a while, finally turning up Stone Canyon Road. A mile up the twisting road. Jack Gardiner slipped a step behind Ricky Marigold and pulled out the blade. Ricky had started to turn, just as Connie's father drove the shaft into Ricky's back, near the base of the spine. Ricky was instantly paralyzed, though not dead. He slipped to the street, and Jack Gardiner dragged him into the high weeds and junk of an empty lot. He left him there to die.
Unable to speak, unable to move, Ricky Marigold found all the love draining out of him. Slowly, for six hours, through the small of his back.”
― Harlan Ellison, The Deadly Streets

“Even then, even though hippies were unaware, Peace, Love, and Music was a brand, preying on our nostalgia for an experience few who worship it ever had.”
― Thomm Quackenbush, Holidays with Bigfoot

“They brought the first guy back and the two old hippies sat side by side, seemingly wary of each other. She felt that each, in his mind, was making the case for being the more intelligent and authentic washed-up former hippie.”
― George Saunders, Liberation Day

“Nature is an old school, frequented by hippies on weekends.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Night of a Thousand Thoughts

“Fell finally led Lucas into a clothing store that apparently hadn't changed either stock or customers since '69. Every male customer other than Lucas was bearded, and three of the four women customers wore tie-dye. Lucas bought an ill-fitting leather porkpie hat. In the mirror, he looked like a hippie designer's idea of an Amazon explorer.”
― John Sandford, Silent Prey

“The hippies became another corporate avatar, another mascot selling sugary cereal instead of free love.”
― Thomm Quackenbush, Holidays with Bigfoot

“The hippies saw themselves as enlightened. They were in fact about as endarkened as it was possible to get, the absolute enemies of Apollo. We need a new 1960s style revolution, but one which is much better thought out with regard to it consequences. Above all, it has to be explicitly allied to Apollonian forces, and explicitly resistant to anarchism, libertarianism and individualistic narcissism. Cataclysmically, 60s individualism mated with Ayn Rand’s anarcho-capitalist libertarianism, which detests government, authority and the State. We thus have the worst of Dionysian individualism and irrationalism, and no Apollonian collectivism and rationalism.”
― Joe Dixon, The Liberty Wars: The Trump Time Bomb

“A person wanted to live a free life. She is depressed because she got stuck in marriage and children. Another person is living a free hippie life. She is depressed because her life seems like a kite without string. The only constant in her life are the tattoos on her body.”
― Shunya

“Eugenians are proud of the regional bounty and were passionate about incorporating local, seasonal, and organic ingredients well before it was back in vogue. Anglers are kept busy in fresh waters, fishing for wild chinook salmon in the spring and steelhead in the summer, and sweet Dungeness crab is abundant in the estuaries year-round. Local farmers gather every Saturday downtown to sell homegrown organic produce and honey, foraged mushrooms, and wild berries. The general demographic is of hippies who protest Whole Foods in favor of local co-ops, wear Birkenstocks, weave hair wraps to sell at outdoor markets, and make their own nut butter. They are men with birth names like Herb and River and women called Forest and Aurora.”
― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

“I will be doing two things tonight well . . . 1, Drinking in your establishment and 2, Growing my Hair Long”
― Kevin Kolenda

“The share-and-share-alike anti-establishment ethos of the Topanga Canyon Hollywood hippie entertainment class of the late sixties was what Dennis Wilson offered these ragmuffins. However, pretty quickly, these garbage-eating, acid-tripping, clap-ridden, singsong-sounding runaways proved themselves to be a bunch of freeloading ingrates. They wrecked Wilson's pad and cost him thousands of dollars in venereal-disease medicine and lost, stolen, and damaged property. Until, finally, Wilson just moved out of the house and left it to his business manager to evict the squalid squatters.”
― Quentin Tarantino, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

“Yes, it looks like this Charlie fella took the pimpin' playbook and ingeniously rewrote it for a generation of girls pissed off at their folks. As he watches Pussycat sincerely spew this fella's horseshit, Cliff tries to imagine where she came from. If in the fifties, he'd followed through with his intention to give the pimping game a whirl, he never would have gotten close to a pretty, obviously educated gal like this one. But this whole hippie shit put the whole world out of whack. Now she's offering up her snatch for a lift to Chatsworth.

Girls who, before, maybe gave you a hand job at the drive-in will now fuck you and your friend.

Where those French dudes supplied their girls with champagne, lipstick, pantyhose, and Max Factor, this Charlie dude supplies his with acid and free love and a philosophy that ties it all together.”
― Quentin Tarantino, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

“Our family was an organic, free-range, humanely sourced kind of family. The kind of family who uses plant-based cleaners that aren’t strong enough to actually degrease anything so every pot and pan has a sort of waxy sheen on it forever. My parents were hippies and didn’t do anything according to the status quo. I’m pretty sure my father still wakes up every morning, checks in on what the entire world is doing, and then does the opposite.”
― Laura Chinn, Acne