In my medicine cabinet, the winter fly has died of old age.
I yelled for joy. We passed the bottle. The great blazing stars came out, the far receding hills got dim. I felt like an arrow that could shoot out all the way.
I wandered out like a haggard ghost, and there she was, Frisco - long, bleak streets with trolley wires all shrouded in fog and whiteness. I stumbled around a few blocks. Weird bums (Mission and Third...
I suddenly look at the fish and feel horrible all over again, that old death scheme is now back only now I'm gonna put my big healthy Anglosaxon teeth into it and wrench away at the mournful flesh of...
I don't wanta hear all your word descriptions of words words words you made up all winter, man I wanta be enlightened by actions.
I could hear everything, together with the hum of my hotel neon. I never felt sadder in my life. LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; New York gets godawful cold in the winter but t...
His friends said, Why do you have that ugly thing hanging there? and Bull said, I like it because it's ugly. All his life was in that line.
For the next week that was all I heard - manana, a lovely word and one that probably means heaven.
Dammit that yodel of triumph of yours was the most beautiful thing I ever heard in my life. I wish I'd a had a tape recorder to take it down.' 'Those things aren't made to be heard by the people below...
But on top of all that, the feelings about Princess, I'd also gone through an entire year of celibacy based on my feeling that lust was the direct cause of birth which was the direct cause of sufferin...
Bitterness, recriminations, advice, morality, sadness—everything was behind him, and ahead of him was the ragged and ecstatic joy of pure being (195).
At night I closed my eyes and saw my bones threading the mud of my grave.
And just for a moment I had reached the point of ecstasy that I always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into timeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of...
And a bird who was on a crooked branch is suddenly gone without my even hearing him.
All life is but a skull-bone andA rack of ribs through whichwe keep passing food & fuel
Wishing there was a Personal God in all this impersonal matter.
This girl I was SEEKING to get involved with as if not enough trouble already or other old romances hadn't taught me that message of pain, keep asking for it, for life
Everybody saying O how wonderful life is, how miraculous, God made this and God made that, how do you know he doesnt hate what He did: He might even be drunk and not noticing what he went and done
A choleric, red-faced, pudgy hater of everything, who could turn on the warmest and most charming smile in the world when real life confronted him sweetly in the night.
You’d never care to plant some roots insociety, I suppose, mused the other.