With the possible exception of things like box scores, race results, and stock market tabulations, there is no such thing as Objective Journalism. The phrase itself is a pompous contradiction in terms.
The brutal reality of politics would be probably intolerable without drugs.
There is always room for losers in the football business. They are the mother’s milk of gambling, and why not? Somebody has to do it, or there won’t be any winners.
I wanted to take off all my clothes and never wear them again.
You’d be surprised at the things people will do in order to get their names or pictures in the paper.
I need beaches, and blackness, and moonlit nakedness.
The first paragraph. The last paragraph. That’s where the story is going and how it’s going to end. Or else you’ll go off in a hundred different directions.
At the top of the mountain we are all snow leopards.
Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind but falling in love and not getting arrested.
It drops us into a vigorous current, a constant state of misguided control. The doomed generation takes a final step forward, ignoring all the signs that state the obvious, and leaps into a trip no drug known to man could ever encompass.
No, this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted.
Beware of looking for goals: look for a way of life.
Truth is weirder than any fiction I’ve seen.
An outlaw can be defined as somebody who lives outside the law, beyond the law and not necessarily against it.
Walk tall, kick ass, learn to speak Arabic, love music and never forget you come from a long line of truth seekers, lovers and warriors.
You can’t hoard fun. It has no shelf life.
All we have to do is get out and vote, while it’s still legal, and we will wash those crooked warmongers out of the White House.
In the meantime, I would drink, rest, and ponder the meaning of this mob.
With the truth so dull and depressing, the only working alternative is wild bursts of madness and filigree.
I felt a tremendous distance between myself and everything real.