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Ah, if I could realize, if I could forget myself and devote my meditations to the freeing, the awakening and the blessedness of all living creatures everywhere I'd realize what there is, is ecstasy.

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
Awakening
Everywhere
Creatures
Meditation
Meditations
Realize
Blessedness
Realizing
Freeing
Forget
Devote
Living
Ecstasy

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Because I cannot write my native language and have no native home anymore, and am amazed by that horrible homelessness of all French-Canadian s abroad in America.
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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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I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all
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Mind is the Maker, for no reason at all, for all this creation, created to fall.
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I don't wanta hear all your word descriptions of words words words you made up all winter, man I wanta be enlightened by actions.
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All is well, practice kindness, heaven is nigh.
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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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Details are the Life of Prose.
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It seemed like a matter of minutes when we began rolling in the foothills before Oakland and suddenly reached a height and saw stretched out ahead of us the fabulous white city of San Francisco on her eleven mystic hills with the blue Pacific and its advancing wall of potato-patch fog beyond, and smoke and goldenness in the late afternoon of time.
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and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear?
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As we crossed the Colorado-Utah border I saw God in the sky in the form of huge gold sunburning clouds above the desert that seemed to point a finger at me and say, Pass here and go on, you're on the road to heaven.
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Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind.
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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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While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light
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I just won't sleep, I decided. There were so many other interesting things to do.
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Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.
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If you dont [sic] say what you want, what's the sense of writing?
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...and performing our one and noble function of the time, move.
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Life is life, and kind is kind
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I'm not a beatnik. I'm a Catholic.
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