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Jack Kerouac Quotes - Page 9

All Quotes Adventure Age Art Childhood Children Confusion Country Darkness Drinking Earth Emptiness Eternity Feelings Fun Genius Giving Goodbye Hate Heart Heaven Hell Home Inspirational Journey Joy Kindness Language Leaving Life Literature Los Angeles Love Lying Madness Moon Morning Mountain Pain Passion Past Personality Pride Rain Running Sadness School Silence Sleep Sorrow Soul Travel Vision Waiting Walking Water Wine Winter Wisdom Worry Writing

It all ends in tears anyway.

It all ends in tears anyway.

Wisdom, Tears, Ends

Jack Kerouac (1986). “The Dharma Bums”, p.216, Penguin

You seek identity in the midst of indistinguishab le chaos, in sprawling nameless reality.

Reality, Identity, Chaos

I was having a wonderful time and the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams.

Dream, World, Wonderful

Jack Kerouac (2007). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.323, Penguin

and the stars were icicles of mockery

Stars, Icicles, Mockery

Jack Kerouac (1986). “The Dharma Bums”, p.48, Penguin

Mind is the Maker, for no reason at all, for all this creation, created to fall.

Fall, Mind, Creation

Jack Kerouac (1986). “The Dharma Bums”, p.99, Penguin

Because I cannot write my native language and have no native home anymore, and am amazed by that horrible homelessness of all French-Canadian s abroad in America.

Home, Writing, Native Language

Somebody had tipped the American continent like a pinball machine and all the goofballs had come rolling to LA in the southwest corner. I cried for all of us. There was no end to the American sadness and the American madness. Someday we'll all start laughing and roll on the ground when we realize how funny it's been.

Sadness, Laughing, Machines

Jack Kerouac (2011). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: The Original Scroll”, p.206, Penguin UK

I have been writing my heart out all my life, but only getting a living out of it now.... ... it's not a question of the merit of art, but a question of spontaneity and sincerity and joy I say. I would like everybody in the world to tell his full life confession and tell it his own way and then we'd have something to read in our old age.

Art, Writing, Joy

She talks with a broken heart - Her voice lutes brokenly like a heart lost, musically too, like in a lost grove, it's almost too much to bear sometimes like some fantastic futuristic Jerry Southern singer in a nightclub who steps up to the mike in the spotlight in Las Vegas but doesn't even have to sing, just talk, to make men sigh and women wonder I guess.

Heart, Men, Vegas

Jack Kerouac (2011). “Big Sur”, p.89, Penguin

I'm writing this book because we're all going to die.

Wisdom, Book, Writing

Jack Kerouac (1993). “Visions of Cody”, p.354, Penguin

I am always thinking 'What am I doing here? Is this the way I am supposed to feel?'

Inspirational, Thinking, Way

It’s a sort of furtiveness … Like we were a generation of furtive. You know, with an inner knowledge there’s no use flaunting on that level, the level of the ‘public’, a kind of beatness – I mean, being right down to it, to ourselves, because we all really know where we are – and a weariness with all the forms, all the conventions of the world … It’s something like that. So I guess you might say we’re a beat generation.

Mean, Generations, Use

In my medicine cabinet, the winter fly has died of old age.

Winter, Medicine, Age

Jack Kerouac (2013). “Book of Haikus”, p.30, Penguin

We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked at each other for the last time.

Goodbye, Wisdom, Love Is

Jack Kerouac (2007). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.192, Penguin

Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.

Sunset, Color, Purple

Jack Kerouac (1957). “On the Road”, Viking Press

Bee, why are you staring at me? I am not a flower??

Flower, Bees, Staring

Jack Kerouac (2013). “Book of Haikus”, p.15, Penguin

Return those shoes to the shoemaker Return this hand to my father This pillow to the pillowmaker Those slippers to the shop. That wainscot to the carpenter, But my mind my tranquil and eternal Mind Return it to whom?

Life And Love, Father, Hands

The tree looks like a dog, barking at heaven.

Dog, Tree, Heaven

Bertrand Agostini, Christiane Pajotin, Jack Kerouac (1998). “Itinéraire dans l'errance: Jack Kerouac et le haïku”

The secret of this kind of climbing, is like Zen. Don't think. Just dance along. It's the easiest thing in the world, actually easier than walking on flat ground which is monotonous. The cute little problems present themselves at each step and yet you don't hesitate and you find yourself on some other boulder you picked out for no special reason at all, just like zen.~ Japhy

Cute, Thinking, Climbing

Jack Kerouac (2007). “Road Novels 1957-1960”

I'll go to the south of Sicily in the winter, and paint memories of Arles – I'll buy a piano and Mozart me that – I'll write long sad tales about people in the legend of my life – This part is my part of the movie, let's hear yours

Memories, Writing, Winter

Jack Kerouac (2012). “Tristessa (Annotated)”, p.38, BookBaby

..and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didnt know who I was

Moments, Road Life, Knows

Jack Kerouac (2007). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.124, Penguin

What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?

Men, Rainbow, Body

Jack Kerouac (2007). “On the Road”, Viking Press

Keep it kickwriting at all costs too, that is, write only what kicks you and keeps you overtime awake from sheer mad joy.

Writing, Mad, Joy

Jack Kerouac (1991). “On the road”, Penguin USA

We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell

America, Roof

Jack Kerouac (2007). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.155, Penguin

Who can leap the world's ties and sit with me among white clouds?

Clouds, White, Ties

Jack Kerouac (1986). “The Dharma Bums”, p.20, Penguin

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