Whatever had been on the radio in the &#39;60s; I mean we were always listening to the radio.

They say they seek security and quiet, the condition they call peace. Even as they speak they create the seeds of turmoil and violence.

What can we know? What are we all? Poor silly half-brained things peering out at the infinite, with the aspirations of angels and the instinct of beasts.

It’s not that I can’t fall in love. It’s really that I can’t help falling in love with too many things all at once. So, you must understand why I can’t distinguish between what’s platonic and what isn’t, because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Written By Jack Kerouac

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links