I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past…
Catalog
Jack Kerouac
Jack Kerouac (/ˈkɛruˌæk/ or /ˈkɛrəˌwæk/, born Jean-Louis Lebris de Kérouac; March 12, 1922 – October 21, 1969) was an American novelist and poet. He is considered a literary iconoclast and, alongside William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg, a pioneer of the Beat Generation. Kerouac is recognized for his method of spontaneous prose. Thematically, his work covers topics such as Catholic spirituality, jazz, promiscuity, Buddhism, drugs, poverty, and travel. He became an underground celebrity and, with other beats, a progenitor of the hippie movement, although he remained antagonistic toward some of its politically radical elements. In 1969, aged 47, Kerouac died from internal bleeding due to long-term alcohol abuse. Since his death, Kerouac's literary prestige has grown, and several previously unseen works have been published. All of his books are in print today, including The Town and the City, On the Road, Doctor Sax, The Dharma Bums, Mexico City Blues, The Subterraneans, Desolation Angels, Visions of Cody, The Sea Is My Brother, and Big Sur. 2Biography 3Early life and adolescence Jack Kerouac was born on March 12, 1922 in Lowell, Massachusetts, to French Canadian parents, Léo-Alcide Kéroack (1899-1946) and Gabrielle-Ange Lévesque (1895-1973). There is some confusion surrounding his name, partly because of variations on the spelling of Kerouac, and because of Kerouac's own statement of his name as Jean-Louis Lebris de Keroua
Down on the lake rosy reflections of celestial vapor appeared, and I said, 'God, I love you' and looked to the sky and really meant it. 'I have fallen in love with you, God. Take care of us all, one way or the other.' To the children and the innocent it's all the same.
It all ends in tears anyway.
One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.
What a horror it would have been if the world was real.
For me it was just red wine in my mouth and a pile of firewood.
Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running—that's the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there.
Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that god damn mountain.
I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past…
While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light.
Did I create that sky? Yes.
Even in dreams be kind.
While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light.
The universe is fully known because it is ignored. Enlightenment comes when you don’t care.
Blind milky light fills our night; and the morning is a crystal.
Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free, than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree.
I believed in a good home, in sane and sound living, in good food, good times, work, faith and hope. I have always believed in these things. It was with some amazement that I realized I was one of the few people in the world who really believed in these things without going around making a dull…
I was surprised, as always, be how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility.
A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world.