Jack Kerouac. On the road (№ 45122)

They danced in the streets as usual, and I trailed behind, as life follow those who are interesting to me, because interesting to me some madmen, those who are crazy about life, from conversations, from the desire to be saved, who craves everything who is never bored and does not speak platitudes, who only burns, burns, burns, like fantastic yellow Roman candles that spiders bloom in the starry sky, and in the center a blue flash occurs, and then all shout, "Whoa-Oh-Oh!"
(... I loved them like my whole life chasing after people who interested me, because the only people for me is the crazies, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, greedy all at the same time, who never yawn, never say commonplace, who only burns, burns, burns like fabulous yellow Roman candles, exploding among the stars spiders of the world, and in the middle of the visible blue flash, and all howl: "A-awww!")
(I love crazy, such that want to live wildly, madly want to talk, want to escape wildly who want to have it all, who never yawn and never talk platitudes, but always burn, burn, burn!)