They came to be starlets; they ended up in Drive-Ins.
In that moment, too, he looked so exactly like Franklin Delano Roosevelt-some delusion in my flaming eyes and floating brain-that I drew up in my seat and gasped with amazement.
Now he’d bought a new suit to go back in; blue with pencil stripes, vest and all – eleven dollars on Third Avenue, with a watch and watch chain, and a portable typewriter with which he was going to start writing in a Denver rooming house as soon as he got a job there.
No difference between the Morley of this morning and the Morley of last night, except his voice as he rattled on yakking in that cultured snide funny way of his was sorta cute with that morning freshness, like the way people’s voices sound after getting up early in the morning, something faintly wistful and hoarse and eager in it, ready for a new day.
Oh, I love, love, love women! I think women are wonderful! I love women!
He is the antithesis of Voltaire, the child of Leibniz.
I don’t know, I’m going as fast as I can and I don’t think I have the time.
I’ve just figured out she is thirty-one-and-a-quarter-per-cent English, twenty-seven-and-a-half-per-cent Irish, twenty-five-per-cent German, eighty-and-three-quarters-per-cent Dutch, seven-and-a-half-per-cent Scotch, one-hundred-per-cent wonderful.
Man ain’t safe going around this country anymore without a gun.
There he was, my chipmunk, in the bright clear windy sunny air staring on the rock; hands clasping he sat up straight, some little oat between his paws; he nibbled, he darted away, the little nutty lord of all he surveyed.
It never occurs to you that life is serious and there are people trying to make something decent out of it instead of just goofing all the time.” That’s what Dean was, the Holy Goof.
The whole purpose of mountain-climbing to me isn’t just to show off you can get to the top, it’s getting out to this wild country.
Everything was being mixed up, and all was falling.
Art has been for me, when I did not deceive myself, a meager compensation for what I desire. I am bored with these frantic cravings, tired of them and therefore myself, and contemptuous, though tolerant, of all my vast powers of self-pity and self-expressive misery. What am I? What do I seek?
I hope you get where you’re going, and be happy when you do.
And what’s the purpose of all this?” – “Ah Daddy, maybe just to see you again and we can talk about purposes anywhere: you wanta go on a lecture tour to Utah university and Brown university and tell the well scrubbed kids?” – “Scrubbed with what?” – “Scrubbed with hopeless perfection of pioneer puritan hope that leaves nothing but dead pigeons to look at?
The magnificent car made the wind roar; it made the plains unfold like a roll of paper; it cast hot tar from itself with deference – an imperial boat.
There is nothing to do but write the truth. There is no other reason to write.
One night in a meditation vision Avalokitesvara the Hearer and Answerer of Prayer said to me ‘You are empowered to remind people that they are utterly free’ so I laid my hand on myself to remind myself first and then felt gay, yelled ‘Ta,’ opened my eyes, and a shooting star shot.
And after a refreshing sleep filled with cobwebby dreams of my past life in the East I got up, washed in the station men’s room, and strode off, fit and slick as a fiddle, and got me a rich thick milkshake at the roadhouse to put some freeze in my hot, tormented stomach.