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Because I am Beat, I believe in Beatitude and that God so loved the world He gave His only begotten Son to it.

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Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy

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A poet is a blind optimist.The world is against him formany reasons. But thepoet persists. He believesthat he is on the right track,no matter what any...more

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I was amazed by the fact that I was not the only writer living, not the only young man "with a locomotive in his chest, and that's a fact," not the on...more

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The Grim Reaper isn't grim at all; he's a life-saver. He isn't grim because he isn't anything. . . . he is nothing. And nothing is a hell of a lot bet...more

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I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.

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I am young now and can look upon my body and soul with pride. But it will be mangled soon, and later it will begin to disintegrate, and then I shall d...more

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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...more

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...Cody is furiously explaining to his little son Tim 'Never let the right hand know what your left hand is doing'...Page 100.

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Hateful bitch of a world, it wouldn't ever last.

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A scene should be selected by the writer for haunted-ness-of-mind interest. If you're not haunted by something, as by a dream, a vision, or a memory, ...more

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The trouble with fashions is you want to fuck the women in their fashions but when the time comes they always take them off so they don't get wrinkled...more

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I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.

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At night in this part of the West the stars, as I had seen them in Wyoming, were as big as Roman Candles and as lonely as the Prince who's lost his an...more

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All I wanted and all Neal wanted and all anybody wanted was some kind of penetration into the heart of things where, like in a womb, we could curl up ...more