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Everything I wrote was true because I believed what I saw.

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
Saws
True
Truth
Everything
Believed
Wrote

More quotes by Jack Kerouac

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Life is life, and kind is kind
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It's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies
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Something that you feel will find its own form.
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We lay on our backs looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when he made life so sad and disinclined.
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The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great, that I thought I was in a dream.
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Jumping from boulder to boulder and never falling, with a heavy pack, is easier than it sounds you just can't fall when you get into the rhythm of the dance.
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the golden eternity is { }
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Everything is perfect on the street again, the world is permeated with roses of happiness all the time, but none of us know it. The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream.
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I realized that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn't remember because the transitions from life to death and back are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it.
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It is not my fault that certain so-called bohemian elements have found in my writings something to hang their peculiar beatnik theories on.
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It ain't whatcha write, it's the way atcha write it.
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All of life is a foreign country.
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The cause of the world's woe is birth, the cure of the world's woe is a bent stick.
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...most of the time we were alone and mixing up our souls ever more and ever more till it would be terribly hard to say good-by.
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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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The smog was heavy, my eyes were weeping from it, the sun was hot, the air stank, a regular hell is L.A.
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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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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.
Jack Kerouac
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I wished I could explain it to those I loved, my mother, to Japhy, but there just weren't any words to describe the nothingness and purity of it. Is there a certain and definite teaching to be given to all living creatures? was the question probably asked to beetle browed snowy Dipankara, and his answer was the roaring silence of the diamond.
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Night is longer than day for those who dream & day is longer than night for those who make their dreams comes true.
Jack Kerouac