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Somewhere along the line, the pearl would be handed to me.

Jack Kerouac

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Jack Kerouac
Age: 47 †
Born: 1922
Born: March 13
Died: 1969
Died: October 21
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
East Chelmsford
Massachusetts
Jean-Louis Lebris de Kérouac
Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac
Kerouac
Jean-Louis Kerouac
Handed
Somewhere
Line
Along
Lines
Would
Pearl
Pearls

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I'd rather be thin than famous but I'm fat paste that in your broadway show
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When you start separating people from their rivers, what have you got? Bureaucracy!
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Paris is a woman but London is an independent man puffing his pipe in a pub.
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Will you love me in December as you do in May?
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I was having a wonderful time and the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams.
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My aunt once said that the world would never find peace until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness.
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Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind.
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Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.
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the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
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It's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies
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I was amazed by the fact that I was not the only writer living, not the only young man with a locomotive in his chest, and that's a fact, not the only youth with a million hungers and not one of them appeasable, not the only one who is lonely among multitudes, and does not know why.
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At night I closed my eyes and saw my bones threading the mud of my grave.
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all I wanted to do was sneak out into the night and disappear somewhere, and go and find out what everybody was doing all over the country.
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What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
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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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The beauty of things must be that they end.
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and never really thought I'd amount to anything. It was precisely what I wanted the whole world to think then I could sneak in, if that's what they wanted, and sneak out again, which I did.
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and the stars were icicles of mockery
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And then we’ll all go off to sweet life, ‘cause now is the time and we all know time!
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