Weekend Words: Crash

Claude-Joseph Vernet, “The Shipwreck” (1772). Oil on canvas, 114 x 163 cm. National Gallery of Art, Washington. (Image via Web Gallery of Art)

What goes up, must come down, especially when no one really knows what it is. On Wednesday, Bitcoin crashed:

“There is no greater impotence in all the world like knowing you are right and that the wave of the world is wrong, yet the wave crashes upon you.”

—Norman Mailer, Armies of the Night

“The lofty pine is oftenest shaken by the winds; High towers fall with a heavier crash; And the lightning strikes the highest mountain.”


“You can always tell the crash is coming when I start getting tender about Our Dumb Friends. Three highballs and I think I’m St Francis of Assisi.

—Dorothy Parker, Here Lies

“The art of progress is to preserve order amid change, and to preserve change amid order. Life refuses to be embalmed alive. The more prolonged the halt in some unrelieved system of order, the greater the crash of the dead society.”

—Alfred North Whitehead, Process and Reality

“At the crash of economic collapse of which the rumblings can already be heard, the sleeping soldiers of the proletariat will awake as at the fanfare of the Last Judgment and the corpses of the victims of the struggle will arise and demand an accounting from those who are loaded down with curses.”

—Karl Liebknecht

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