Author of quotes: Jack Kerouac. Page 11

I imagined the evening going to sit in a Denver bar with the whole gang, and in their eyes I'd look like a freakin bum, and they will accept me as a prophet, who had crossed on foot the whole country to bring them the secret Word and the only Word I had was "yay!".

When you reach the top, keep climbing.

The road is life.

She made a list of all our names and all our sins, and tried to pull the toilet at work, and the list was long and stuck...
She wrote out a list of all our names and all our sins, she says, and then tried to flush them down the toilet where she works, and the long list of paper stuck in the toilet...

And had to stay home, to drop everything, find a house for himself and MA, to meditate, to be quiet, to read in the sun, drinking wine under the moon in old clothes, to caress her kittens, watch nice dreams...
All I had to do was stay home, give it all up, get a little home for me and Ma, meditate, live a quiet read in the sun, drink wine in the moon in old clothes, pet my kitties, sleep good dreams...

We both lay looking at the ceiling and thought, what the Lord did when he made life so sad.
We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad.

L. A. is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; new York gets incredibly cold in winter, but in some places, in some lanes you can catch the feeling of a questionable partnership. Los Angeles is a jungle.

I release myself from trying to be happy.

Everything is interconnected, and so the rain binds together all throughout the land, by turns touching each...

- Are you guys going somewhere or just going? We do not understand the question, but it was a damn good question.

They've declared their relationship to be intrinsically diabolical ties-hour conversations.
(... they cemented their relationship to the brutal degree of continuous daily and nightly conversations.)

Nothing can be understood once and for all. Is not given to anyone.

Life is life and everything has a place.

What is that feeling when you're away from people, and they become less and less, until they are a speck of dust scattered in front of you? - it's too huge world stands by its arch over us, it's goodbye. But we lean forward, towards the new madness under heaven.