So I rushed past the pretty girls, and the prettiest girls in the world live in Des Moines.

It's pretty amazing to see a guy, while steering at the wheel, suddenly raise his little 300 dollar German camera with one hand and snap something that's on the move in front of him, and through an unwashed windshield at that. (On the road with Robert Frank, 1958)

Don't use the phone. People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry.

And as far as I can see the world is too old for us to talk about it with our new words.

"What do you want out of life?" I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls. "I don't know," she said. "Just wait on tables and try to get along." She yawned. I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn. I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together; saying that, and planning to leave Denver in two days. She turned away wearily. We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad.

all I wanted to do was sneak out into the night and disappear somewhere, and go and find out what everybody was doing all over the country.

Bein Crazy is the least of my worries.