Eager for bread and love..

...[the photographer] can be considered a kind of disembodied burrowing eye, a conspirator against time and its hammers. His work, print after print ….

It all ends in tears anyway..

No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself a….

The bus roared through Indiana cornfields that night; the moon illuminated the ghostly gathered husks; it was almost Halloween. I made the acquaintan….

Burroughs is the greatest satirical writer since Jonathan Swift..

Mainly I've been back to my books and writings and being nice and quiet and lazy. As I'm writing this, the radio says there's a foot of snow falling ….

I pictured myself in a Denver bar that night, with all the gang, and in their eyes I would be strange and ragged and like the Prophet who has walked ….

Think what a great world revolution will take place when ... [there are] millions of guys all over the world with rucksacks on their backs tramping a….

The bartenders are the regular band of Jack, and the heavenly drummer who looks up to the sky with blue eyes, with a beard, is wailing beer-caps of b….

Don't use the phone. People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry..

And there in the blue air I saw for the first time, far off, the great snowy tops of the Rocky Mountains. I had to get to Denver at once..

Hell man, I know very well you didn't come to me only to want to become a writer, and after all what do I really know about it except that you've got….

Pretty girls make graves.

It's hard to explain and best thing to do is not be false..

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

Life is life, and kind is kind.

Never mistake talking about writing for actual writing..

Some of my most neurotically fierce bitterness is the result of realizing how untrue people have become..

stick at it like a benni addict.

The silence was an intense roar..