Quotes from Jack Kerouac

the drivers, two young blond farmers from Minnesota, were picking up every single soul they found on that road—the most smiling, cheerful couple of handsome bumpkins you could ever wish to see, both wearing cotton shirts and overalls, nothing else; both thick-wristed and earnest, with broad howareyou smiles for anybody and anything that came across their path.

We went back to the barn; I made love to her under the tarantula. What was the tarantula doing?

Buddhism wasn't responsible for the insane atrocities of human history

I had been spending a quiet Christmas in the country, as I realized when we got back into the house and I saw the Christmas tree, the presents, and smelled the roasting turkey and listened to the talk of the relatives, but now the bug was on me again, and the bug's name was Dean Moriarty and I was off on another spurt around the road.

I told her it (sex) was beautiful. I wanted to prove it to her. She let me prove it, but I was too impatient and proved nothing. She sighed in the dark.

I love the way everybody says L.A. on the Coast, it's their one and only golden town when all is said and done.

I looked up at the dark sky and prayed to God for a better break in life and a better chance to do something for the little people I loved. Nobody was paying any attention to me up there. I should have known better.

Ordinarily the death of a cat means little to most men, a lot to fewer men, but to me, and that cat, it was exactly and no lie and sincerely like the death of my little brother - I loved Tyke with all my heart

The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death. But who wants to die? In the rush of events I kept thinking about this in the back of my mind.

Kad?nlar? bilirsin, küçük kedileri pek severler... Yard?ma muhtaç ÅŸeylere bay?l?r onlar. Ama erkeklere geldi mi iÅŸ deÄŸiÅŸir, erkeÄŸin zalim olan?n? tercih ederler.

Where go? what do? what for?—sleep.

That same night I dug Lampshade on Fillmore and Geary. Lampshade is a big colored guy who comes into musical Frisco saloons with coat, hat, and scarf and jumps on the bandstand and starts singing; the veins pop in his forehead; he heaves back and blows a big foghorn blues out of every muscle in his soul.

As in a dream we zoomed through small crossroads towns smack out of the darkness, and passed long lines of lounging harvest hands and cowboys in the night.

All the way down the raging coast! So that when later I heard people say "Oh Big Sur must be beautiful!" I gulp to wonder why it has the reputation of being beautiful above and beyond its fearfulness, its Blakean groaning roughrock Creation throes, those vistas when you drive the coast highway on a sunny day opening up the eye for miles of horrible washing sawing.

It was three children of the earth trying to decide something in the night and having all the weight of the past centuries ballooning in the dark before them

Quedamos tumbados de espaldas mirando al techo y preguntándonos qué se habría propuesto Dios al hacer un mundo tan triste.

Tienes que hacerlo! ¡Tienes que hacerlo o te morirás! ¡Venga, maldito idiota, habla con ella! ¿Qué coño te pasa? ¿Es que todavía no estás lo suficientemente cansado de andar por ahí solo?

Nos volvimos tras una docena de pasos, porque el amor es triste, y nos miramos por última vez.

nunca me comprendería porque me gustan demasiadas cosas y me confundo y desconcierto corriendo detrás de una estrella fugaz tras otra hasta que me hundo. Así es la noche, y eso produce. No puedo ofrecer más que mi propia confusión

LA." I loved the way she said "LA"; I love the way everybody says "LA" on the Coast; it's their one and only golden town when all is said and done.

He's filling empty space with the substance of our lives, confessions of his bellybottom strain, remembrance of ideas, rehashes of old blowing.

Findes der en bestemt og tydelig lære der kan gives alle levende væsener?" var det spørgsmål man sikkert stillede den snehvide Dipankara med de buskede øjenbryn, og hans svar var diamantens brølende stilhed.

Ce n'è ancora, di strada

What did I care about all the irking hurts and tedious wronks of the world, the human bones are but vain lines dawdling