Who can live with this Consciousness and not wake frightened at sunrise?

I want to be a saint, a real saint while I am young, for there is so much work to do.

Last Exit to Brooklyn should explode like a rusty hellish bombshell over America and still be eagerly read in a hundred years.

I don't think there is any truth. There are only points of view.

First thought, best thought.

I'm an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas / but not afraid / to speak my lonesomeness in a car, / because not only my lonesomeness / it's Ours, all over America, / O tender fellows --/ & spoken lonesomeness is Prophecy / in the moon 100 years ago or in / the middle of Kansas now.

I've got enough money to live where I want, but I don't want to move.Go out and have sexual adventures in Burma.