Quotes About Jack Kerouac

What difference does it make after all?--anonymity in the world of men is better than fame in heaven, for what's heaven? what's earth? All in the mind.

I'd sleep and forget it; I had my own life, my own sad and ragged life forever.

We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad. We made vague plans to meet in Frisco.

fear life but don't die, your alone, everybody's alone, oh Cody Pomeray you can't win you can't lose all is ephemeral all is hurt

Notoriety and public confession in the literary form is a frazzler of the heart you were born with, believe me.

But among the great road trips of American history--from Lewis and Clark to Alexis de Tocqueville to Jack Kerouac-- it hardly rates a mention.

Around Jack (Kerouac) there circulated a palpable aura of fame and death.

Jack [Kerouac] was, in a sense, a twentieth-century American mythographer. And that's why maybe those novels will stand up, because they will be one of the best statements of the myth of the twentieth century.

Bill said I was 'developing' at a rapid pace and gave me a different kind of book as a 'reward'. It's On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I'm now up to about ten cigarettes a day.

It is not my fault that certain so-called bohemian elements have found in my writings something to hang their peculiar beatnik theories on.

Symbolism is alright in 'fiction,' but I tell true life stories simply about what happened to people I knew.

My manners, abominable at times, can be sweet. As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind. I'm a wretch. But I love, love.

Bee, why are you staring at me? I am not a flower??

It was a rainy night. It was the myth of a rainy night.

Practice kindness all day to everybody and you will realize you're already in heaven now.

It's only through form that we can realize emptiness

fear life but don't die, your alone, everybody's alone, oh Cody Pomeray you can't win you can't lose all is ephemeral all is hurt

because to me the only thing that matters is the conceptions in my own mind, there has to be no reality anyway to what I suppose is going on (p. 153)

And I realize the unbearable anguish of insanity: how uninformed people can be thinking insane people are happy, O God, in fact it was Irwin Garden once warned me not to think the madhouses are full of happy nuts. (p. 200)

Books, shmooks, this sickness has got me wishing if I can ever get out of this I'll gladly become a millworker and shut my big mouth.

Smith, you don't realize it's a privilege to practice giving presents to others.' The way he did it was charming; there was nothing glittery and Christmasy about it, but almost sad, and sometimes his gifts were old beat-up things but they had the charm of usefulness and sadness of his giving.

Paradise!' he screamed. 'The one and only indispensable Paradise.

Romanlar?mla evlenip, çocuk yerine de k?sa hikayeler edineceÄŸim.

He's a great mysterious Bodhisattva I think maybe a reincarnation of Asagna the great Mahayana scholar of the old centuries." "And who am I?" "I dunno, maybe you're Goat.