In a totally sane society, madness is the only freedom.

— J.G. Ballard

In effect, the apartment block was a small vertical city, its two thousand inhabitants boxed up into the sky.j.g.

— J.G. Ballard

In the future, violence would clearly become a valuable form of social cement.

— J.G. Ballard

In the post-Warhol era a single gesture such as uncrossing one's legs will have more significance than all the pages in War and Peace.

— J.G. Ballard

Jim knew that he was awake and asleep at the same time, dreaming of the war and yet dreamed of by the war.

— J.G. Ballard

Jim watched them eat, his eyes fixed on every morsel that entered their mouth. When the oldest of the four soldiers had finished he scraped some burnt rice and fish scales from the side of the cooking pot. A first-class private of some forty years, with slow, careful hands, he beckoned Jim forward and handed him his mess tin. As they smoked their cigarettes the Japanese smiled to themselves, watching Jim devour the shreds of fatty rice. It was his first hot food since he had left the hospital, and the heat and greasy flavor stung his gums. Tears swam in his eyes. The Japanese soldier who had taken pity on Jim, recognizing that this small boy was starving, began to laugh good-natured, and pulled the rubber plug from his metal water-bottle. Jim drank the clear, chlorine-flavored liquid, so unlike the stagnant water in the taps of the Columbia Road. He choked, carefully swallowed his vomit, and tittered into his hands, grinning at the Japanese. Soon they were all laughing together, sitting back in the deep grass beside the drained swimming-pool.

— J.G. Ballard

Kandinsky looked up. 'Do you read science fiction?' he asked matter-of-factly.' Not as a rule,' Ward admitted. When Kandinsky said nothing he went on: 'Perhaps I’m too skeptical, but I can’t take it too seriously.' Kandinski pulled at a blister on his palm. 'No one suggests you should. What you mean is that you take it too seriously.' Accepting the rebuke with a smile at himself, Ward pulled out one of the magazines and sat down at a table next to Kandinsky. On the cover was a placid suburban setting of snugly saved houses, yew trees, and children’s bicycles. Spreading slowly across the rooftops was an enormous pulpy nightmare, blocking out the sun behind it and throwing a weird phosphorescent glow over the roofs and lawns. 'You’re probably right,' Ward said, showing the cover to Kandinsky. 'I’d hate to want to take that seriously.'("The Venus Hunters")

— J.G. Ballard

Kill a politician, and you're tied to the motive that made you pull the trigger.

— J.G. Ballard

Maybe you are a poet and a dreamer, but don't you realize that those two species are extinct now?

— J.G. Ballard

Memories have huge staying power, but like dreams, they thrive in the dark, surviving for decades in the deep waters of our minds like shipwrecks on the sea bed.

— J.G. Ballard