Author of quotes: Jack Kerouac. Page 13

Oh my God, sociability is just a big smile, and a smile is just teeth...
Oh my God, sociability is just a big smile and a big smile is nothing but teeth.

Let glide of transformation of thoughts.

Some scum, some not, that's the whole alignment.

A somber moment. We all thought that never more each other see, and we didn't care.

The technique of prose writing of Jack Kerouac. The list of rules:
1. Rough secret notebooks and wacky printed sheets - they are for my own pleasure.
2. All together must be open, to listen.
3. Try not to drink outside the home.
4. Be in love with your life.
5. What you feel will find its own form.
6. Crazy and stupid, they are all the saints you have in mind.
7. Zakidyvaya as much as you want.
8. Write what you want bottomless. Take it from the bottom of the mind.
9. The transcending vision of a man.

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!)

You can't live in this world but there's nowhere else to go.
In this world it is impossible to live, but nowhere else.

never have had to ask myself: "O, what torments me Lord?", so to be alone, to travel, to talk with the waiters, in fact, in Milan, Paris, just talk to waiters, hang out, not to impose more agony... It's time to reflect, to observe, to concentrate on the fact that after all this, the surface of the Earth, which we now know were covered with a layer of debris, as over a billion years - Yeah, so a little more solitude, go Back to childhood, just eat apples and read the Catechism, sitting on the curb of this hell, lit the hot spotlights of Hollywood.