The actual materials are important. A book at the nightstand is important - a light you can get at - or a flashlight as Kerouac had a brakeman's latern.

The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction.

First thought, best thought.

How sick i am! that thought Always comes to me with horror. Is it this strange for everybody? But such fugitive feelings have always been my metier.

I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?

The hero surviving his own murder, his own suicide, his own addiction, surviving his own disappearance from the scene

one must verge on the unknown, write toward the truth hitherto unrecognizable of one’s own sincerity, including the avoidable beauty of doom, shame, and embarrassment, that very area of personal self-recognition,(detailed individual is universal remember) which formal conventions, internalized, keep us from discovering in ourselves and others