I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.

I'd rather be thin than famous but I'm fat paste that in your broadway show

Let nature do the freezing and frightening and isolating in this world. let men work and love and fight it off.

the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

...do you think God made the world to amuse himself because he was bored? Because if so he would have to be mean.

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.

There was nothing to talk about anymore. The only thing to do was go.