Two bits of classic Kerouac, the first from the beginning of ‘On the Road’
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 things, but burn like
fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
What is the feeling when you’re driving away from people, and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? -it’s the too
huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the
next crazy venture beneath the skies.