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And this is the way a novel gets written, in ignorance, fear, sorrow, madness, and a kind of psychotic happiness as an incubator for the wonders being born.

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
Written
Wonders
Happiness
Madness
Born
Sorrow
Fear
Ignorance
Kind
Gets
Way
Novel
Joy
Incubator
Wonder
Psychotic

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Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free, than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree.
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It is possible for the human spirit to win after all.
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The only truth is music.
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In my madness I was actually in love with her for the few hours it all lasted it was the same unmistakable ache and stab across the mind, the same sighs, the same pain, and above all the same reluctance and fear to approach.
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Writing at least is a silent meditation even though you’re going a hundred miles an hour.
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Everything is ecstasy inside. We just don't know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind [it] is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.
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It all ends in tears anyway.
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Parade my trouble in front of you guys? Make you realize that my heart is broken . . . that as long as I live I'll have chains dragging me down to the oceans of sad tears that my feet are wet in already.
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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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Rest and be kind, you don't have to prove anything
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The page is long, blank, and full of truth. When I am through with it, it shall probably be long, full, and empty with words.
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Return those shoes to the shoemaker Return this hand to my father This pillow to the pillowmaker Those slippers to the shop. That wainscot to the carpenter, But my mind my tranquil and eternal Mind Return it to whom?
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Write in recollection and amazement for yourself.
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..and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didnt know who I was
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the golden eternity is { }
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At night I closed my eyes and saw my bones threading the mud of my grave.
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I just won't sleep, I decided. There were so many other interesting things to do.
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...and performing our one and noble function of the time, move.
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and I shudder sometimes to think of all that stellar mystery of how she IS going to get me in a future lifetime, wow - And I seriously do believe that will be my salvation, too. A long way to go.
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Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child believing in everything under your father's roof? Then comes the day of the Laodiceans, when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, and with the visage of a gruesome grieving ghost you go shuddering through nightmare life.
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