My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears.

We agreed to love each other madly.

Man lowers his head and lunges into civilization, forgetting the days of his infancy when he sought truth in a snowflake or a stick. Man forgets the wisdom of the child.

This was really the way my whole road experience began, and the things that were to come are too fantastic not to tell.

It is not my fault that certain so-called bohemian elements have found in my writings something to hang their peculiar beatnik theories on.

...but I preferred reading the American landscape as we went along. Every bump, rise, and stretch in it mystified my longing.

I felt free and therefore I was free.