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6b987bd
|
I didn't know what to say. I felt like crying, Goddammit everybody in the world wants an explanation for your acts and for your very being.
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|
on-the-road
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
cc4a21c
|
I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.
|
|
on-the-road
stars
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
b22af2f
|
Somewhere along the line, the pearl would be handed to me.
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|
on-the-road
pearl
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
fe0ac11
|
At night in this part of the West the stars, as I had seen them in Wyoming, were as big as Roman Candles and as lonely as the Prince who's lost his ancestral home and journeys across the spaces trying to find it again, and knows he never will.
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|
on-the-road
sal-paradise
stars
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
10aa16b
|
...and I realized no matter what you do it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad.
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|
madness
on-the-road
waste-of-time
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
ee6cc94
|
The whole town had instantly gone to bed; the only noise now was barking dogs. How could I ever sleep? Thousands of mosquitoes had already bitten all of us on chest and arms and ankles. Then a bright idea came to me: I jumped up on the steel roof of the car and stretched out flat on my back. Still there was no breeze, but the steel had an element of coolness in it and dried my back of sweat, clotting up thousands of dead bugs into cakes on my skin, and I realized the jungle takes you over and you become it. Lying on the top of the car with my face to the black sky was like lying in a closed trunk on a summer night. For the first time in my life the weather was not something that touched me, that caressed me, froze or sweated me, but became me.
|
|
on-the-road
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
d73dfed
|
What's Your Road, Man?
|
|
beatnik
kerouac
on-the-road
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
d3f759f
|
Non avevo niente da offrire a nessuno tranne la mia confusione.
|
|
on-the-road
sulla-strada
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
5003321
|
Paradise!' he screamed. 'The one and only indispensable Paradise.
|
|
beatnik
kerouac
on-the-road
remi-boncoeur
sal-paradise
|
Jack Kerouac |
|
42a1761
|
We all grew up, those of us who took to heart. We came to cringe a little at our old favorite poet, concluding that God was likely never Pooh Bear, that sometimes New York and California could be just as isolated as our provincial hometown, and that grown men didn't run back and forth all the time bleeding soup and sympathy out of sucker women. But those are just details, really. We got what we needed, namely a passion for unlikely words, the willingness to improvise, a distrust of authority, and a sentimental attachment to a certain America....
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|
kerouac
modernism
on-the-road
|
Sarah Vowell |