They were like the man with the dungeon stone and gloom, rising from the underground, the sordid hipsters of America, a new beat generation that I was slowly joining.

Believe in the holy contour of life.

Eager for bread and love.

Paris is a woman but London is an independent man puffing his pipe in a pub.

We wandered in a frenzy and a dream (301).

As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind.

Roaring dreams take place in a perfectly silent mind. Now that we know this, throw the raft away.