I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you.… - Jack Kerouac

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

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you.

It was the work of the quiet mountains, this torrent of purity at my feet.

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.

I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.