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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.

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
Somewhere
Everybody
Night
Find
Wanted
Country
Sneak
Disappear

More quotes by Jack Kerouac

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I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference.
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If you own a rug you own too much.
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Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.
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Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind.
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but that's alright because now everything'll be alright & we'll soothe the forever boys & girls & before we're thru we'll find a name for this Goddam Golden Eternity & tell a story too
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and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear?
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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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It's okay, girl, we'll make it till the sun goes down forever. And until then what you got to lose but the losing? We're fallen angels who didn't believe that nothing means nothing.
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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 golden eternity is { }
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We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell
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Holy flowers floating in the air, were all these tired faces in the dawn of Jazz America.
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Everything I wrote was true because I believed what I saw.
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The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death. But who wants to die?
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The taste of rain -- Why kneel?
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The beauty of things must be that they end.
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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.
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My life is a vast inconsequential epic.
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It’s not that I can’t fall in love. It’s really that I can’t help falling in love with too many things all at once. So, you must understand why I can’t distinguish between what’s platonic and what isn’t, because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
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It was a rainy night. It was the myth of the rainy night.
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