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Who knows, my God, but that the universe is not one vast sea of compassion actually, the veritable holy honey, beneath all this show of personality and cruelty?

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
Holy
Veritable
Actually
Beneath
Show
Honey
Universe
Cruelty
Shows
Vast
Sea
Personality
Compassion

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the golden eternity is { }
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The only truth is music.
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Dean's California--wild, sweaty, important, the land of lonely and exiled and eccentric lovers come to forgather like birds, and the land where everybody somehow looked like broken-down, handsome, decadent movie actors.
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It ain't whatcha write, it's the way atcha write it.
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Genius gives birth, talent delivers.
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Things are so hard to figure out when you live from day to day in this feverish and silly world.
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...do you think God made the world to amuse himself because he was bored? Because if so he would have to be mean.
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The unspeakable visions of the individual.
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The beauty of things must be that they end.
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I'm going to marry my novels and have little short stories for children.
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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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I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life.
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Way far back in the beginning of the world was the whirlwind warning that we could all be blown away like chips and cry- Men with tired eyes realize it now, and wait to deform and decay- with maybe they have the power of love yet in their hearts just the same, I just don't know what that word means anymore- All I want is an ice cream cone
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My whole wretched life swam before my weary eyes, and I realized no matter what you do it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad.
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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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And the story of love is a long sad tale ending in graves.
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Listen closely... the eternal hush of silence goes on and on throughout all this, and has been going on, and will go on and on. This is because the world is nothing but a dream and is just thought of and the everlasting eternity pays no attention to it.
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My shoes are clean from walking in the rain.
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We tiptoed around each other like heartbreaking new friends.
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It was the work of the quiet mountains, this torrent of purity at my feet.
Jack Kerouac