Death was in every sell of his body. He gave off a faint, greenish steam of decay. Lee imagined he would glow in the dark.
NOTHING happens by coincidence.
Americans have a special horror of giving up control, of letting things happen in their own way without interference.
No one owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.
Anything that can be done chemically can be done by other means.
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
Kerouac opened a million coffee bars and sold a million pairs of Levis to both sexes. Woodstock rises from his pages.
There couldn’t be a society of people who didn’t dream. They’d be dead in two weeks.
By the flaws in the picture the truth will emerge.
Sexual arousal results from the repetition and impact of image.
Life is a vacation from two eternities, who wants to waste those precious years worrying about what happens when you get back to forever?
Life is a vacation from two eternities.
Society is cancerous and bureaucracy is its cancer.
The word is now a virus.
Junk is not, like alcohol or weed, a means to increased enjoyment of life. Junk is not a kick. It is a way of life.
This is a war universe. War all the time. There may be other universes, but ours seems to be based on war and games.
Look at these poisonous color maps where flesh trees grow from human sacrifices; listen to these sniggering half-heard words of tenderness and doom from lips spotted with decay.
A consumer society is about simplfying and degrading the consumer as well as the product.
We should exterminate all rational thought.
Tell the truth once and for all and shut up forever.