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I had a moment of clarity, saw the feeling in the heart of things, walked out to the garden crying.
Allen Ginsberg
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Allen Ginsberg
Age: 70 †
Born: 1926
Born: June 3
Died: 1997
Died: April 5
Autobiographer
Diarist
Musician
Photographer
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
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Paterson
New Jersey
Irwin Allen Ginsberg
Ayālena Gīnasabārga
Alen Ginzberg
Moments
Walked
Heart
Clarity
Things
Cry
Garden
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Feeling
Moment
Feelings
Crying
More quotes by Allen Ginsberg
I know I'm not God, are you? Don't be silly. God? God? Everybody's God? Don't be silly.
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I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
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I think it was when I ran into Kerouac and Burroughs - when I was 17 - that I realized I was talking through an empty skull... I wasn't thinking my own thoughts or saying my own thoughts.
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Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns?
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None of us understand what we're doing, but we do beautiful things anyway.
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I have a new method of poetry. All you got to do is look over your notebooks... or lay down on a couch, and think of anything that comes into your head, especially the miseries. Then arrange in lines of two, three or four words each, don't bother about sentences, in sections of two, three or four lines each.
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A naked lunch is natural to us We eat reality sandwiches. But allegories are so much lettuce. Don't hide the madness.
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Inside skull vast as outside skull
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Man’s usurpation over nature is an egotism that will destroy human as well as whale kingdoms. … Academies should return to wisdom study in tree groves rather than robot study in plastic cells
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To gain your own voice you have to forget about having it heard.
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What came is gone forever every time
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I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.
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What is obscenity? And to whom?
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who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism
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Things are symbols of themselves.
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we're all golden sunflowers inside.
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Now I have enough money to travel wherever I want, but I haven't got the health.
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Sometime I’ll lay down my wrath, As I lay my body down Between the ache of breath and breath, Golden slumber in the bone.
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We are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
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No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love- be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love -cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied: the weight is too heavy
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