Vanity of vanities… all is vanity.’ You kill yourself to get to the grave. Especially you kill yourself to get to the grave before you die; and the name of the grave is ‘success’, the name of that grave is hullabullo boom boom horseshit.

I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life.

Cats yawn because they realize that there's nothing to do.

And with joy you realize for the first time "Thinking's just like not thinking — So I don't have to think any more".

It is possible for the human spirit to win after all.

Between incomprehensible and incoherent sits the madhouse. I am not in the madhouse.

The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that I loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry California October nights unmatched anywhere in the world.