I rather like the idea of having all my hours to myself: eating a Fudge Sundae, watching a movie, sleeping on my couch, singing in the bathroom, studying the woods, kidding around with a girl, playing cards lazily - all kinds of stuff that American brands 'shiftless.'
Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk - real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious.
The silence was an intense roar.
Offer them what they secretly want and they of course immediately become panic-stricken.
Lying mouth to mouth, kiss to kiss in the pillow dark, loin to loin in unbelievable surrendering sweetness so distant from all our mental fearful abstractions it makes you wonder why men have termed God antisexual somehow (p. 148)
The road must eventually lead to the whole world.
Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars.
Contrary to the general belief about photography, you don't need bright sunlight: the best moodiest pictures are taken in the dim light of almost dusk, or of rainy days.
LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; NY gets god-awful cold in the winter but there's a feeling of wacky comradeship somewhere in some streets. LA is a jungle.
Goddamn it, FEELING is what I like in art, not CRAFTINESS and the hiding of feelings.
All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road.
And as far as I can see the world is too old for us to talk about it with our new words.
Now the mountains were getting that pink tinge, I mean the rocks, they were just solid rock covered with the atoms of dust accumulated there since beginningless time. In fact I was afraid of those jagged monstrosities all around and over our heads. "They're so silent!" I said. "Yeah man, you know to me a mountain is a Buddha. Think of the patience, hundreds of thousands of years just sitting there bein perfectly perfectly silent and like praying for all living creatures in that silence and just waitin for us to stop all our frettin and foolin.
When you start separating people from their rivers, what have you got? Bureaucracy!
Bee, why are you staring at me? I am not a flower??
Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free, than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree.
I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future.
I'd rather hop freights around the country and cook my food out of tin cans over wood fires, than be rich and have a home or work.
and nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old
My aunt once said that the world would never find peace until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness.
And I will die, and you will die, and we all will die, and even the stars will fade out one after another in time.
Bop began with Jazz but one afternoon somewhere on a sidewalk maybe 1939, 1940, Dizzy Gillespie or Charlie Parker or Thelonious Monk was walking past a men's clothing store on 42nd Street or South Main in L.A. and from a loudspeaker they suddenly heard a wild impossible mistake in jazz that could only have been heard inside their own imaginary head, and that is a new art. Bop.
We wandered in a frenzy and a dream (301).
The dream is already ended and we're already awake in the golden eternity.
Sure baby, mañana. It was always mañana. For the next few weeks that was all I heard––mañana a lovely word and one that probably means heaven.
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