It’s hypocrisy of men makes these hills grim.
I always thought October was a kind old Love-light.
Hopalong Cassidy conducting his great white horse across the traffic;.
Everything’s alright, form is emptiness and emptiness is form, and we’re here forever, in one form or another, which is empty. Everything’s alright, we’re not here, there, or anywhere.
Don’t be a sucker all your life, dummy up, ya dope.
My philosophy is that you can’t explain the world. It’s too big and it’s too crazy and sometimes it’s funny and most of the time it’s... strange.
Ripples in the upside-down lake of the void, is what I should have said. The bottom of the world is gold and the world is upside down.
Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize “The stars are words” and all the innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too. And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it’s all in my mind. There’s no need for solitude. So love life for what it is, and form no preconceptions whatever in your mind.
Trouble is, what would I do with her once I won her?- it’s like winning an angel in hell and you are then entitled to go down with her to where it’s worse or maybe there’ll be light, some, down there, maybe it’s me’s crazy-.
Begin not from preconceived idea of what to say about image but from jewel center of interest in subject of image at moment of writing, and write outwards swimming in sea of language to peripheral release and exhaustion.
Put down the pen someone else gave you. No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink. Get to San Francisco. Get to San Francisco in defiance of your geography, your ancestry and the lonely change rattling sad excuses in your pocket. Fuel up on pie and diner coffee and mystic visions and the freedom of not knowing what’s coming next except that you’re burning the road to outrun it.
Mudface is the mud in your goatface. What would you say if someone was asked the question ‘Does a dog have a Buddha nature?’ and said ‘Woof!
Once upon a time there’d been a blue-eyed sea captain dining in here.
I had an overwhelming urge to close my eyes in company. I think the girls were terrified of this. “What’s he always sitting with his eyes closed for?
I wanted to know what ‘IT’ meant. ‘Ah well’ – Dean laughed – ’now you’re asking me impon-de-rables – ahem!
Dear Sirs: Do you mind if I let my heart out, splattering all its delicate essences over these following pages?
I’m afraid that you’ll never understand me fully, and because of that, sometimes you’ll be frightened, disgusted, annoyed, or pleased. The thing that makes me different from all of you is the vast inner life I have. I just thrive in this, by nature. The bigger and deeper this inner life grows, the less anyone of you will understand me. That’s okay.
The eyes of hope looking over the flare of the hood into the maw with its white line feeding in straight as an arrow, the lighting of fresh cigarettes, the buckling to lean forward to the next adventure something that’s been going on in America ever since the covered wagons clocked the deserts in three months flat –.
Oh my God, sociability is just a big smile and a big smile is nothing but teeth, I wish I could just stay up here and rest and be kind.
I think my sudden love for this girl is a truer expression of myself than anything.