What is he aching to do? What are we all aching to do? What do we want?” She didn’t know. She yawned. She was sleepy. It was too much. Nobody could tell. Nobody would ever tell. It was all over. She was eighteen and most lovely, and lost.
Jack Kerouac (2011). “On the Road: The Original Scroll: The Original Scroll”, p.345, Penguin UK
