January 2012
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No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose...
– John Steinbeck, The Winter of our Discontent
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I wonder how many people I’ve looked at all my life and never seen.
– John Steinbeck, The Winter of our Discontent
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In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality.
– William S. Burroughs, Queer
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I saw that my life was a vast glowing empty page and I could do anything I...
– Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums
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My aunt once said that the world would never find peace until men fell at their...
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road
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Happiness consists in realizing it is all a great strange dream.
– Jack Kerouac
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Casually updating for the first time in 6 weeks......
I figured it was about time for another text post. Besides - I need help. My reading list will be down to four by the weekend: come talk if you have any suggestions.
As for my life: first game of the soccer season today, and already I’ve managed to hurt myself. My presentation of why I should study in Vienna next year is on friday. And the most important news of today?
One of the few...
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Roaring dreams take place in a perfectly silent mind.
– Jack Kerouac, The Scripture of the Golden Eternity
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That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings...
– F. Scott Fitzgerald
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I feel guilty for being a member of the human race.
– Jack Kerouac, Big Sur
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Things are so hard to figure out when you live from day to day in this feverish...
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road: The Original Scroll
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The beauty of things must be that they end.
– Jack Kerouac, Tristessa
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Life, by definition, is never still. Where is it going? From birth to death,...
– Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard
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When a man becomes a writer, I think he takes on a sacred obligation to produce...
– Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle
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The road must eventually lead to the whole world.
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road
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Talent is extremely common. What is rare is the willingness to endure the life...
– Kurt Vonnegut
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So therefore I dedicate myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labours, my...
– Jack Kerouac
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And the story of love is a long sad tale ending in graves.
– Jack Kerouac
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