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Jack Kerouac

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    Dean is the perfect guy for the road because he actually was born on the road, when his parents were passing through Salt Lake City in 1926, in a jalopy, on their way to Los Angeles.

    Дин

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    New Jersey, where I was living with my aunt

    Сал

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    was a young jailkid all hung-up on the wonderful possibilities of becoming a real intellectual, and he liked to talk in the tone and using the words, but in a jumbled way, that he had heard from "real intellectuals"

    Дин

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    be right with you soon as I finish this chapter," and it was one of the best chapters in the book.

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  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    get the bug like Dean. He was simply a youth tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man, he was only conning because he wanted so much to live and to get involved with people who would otherwise pay no attention to him.

    Дин

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    In the West he'd spent a third of his time in the poolhall, a third in jail, and a third in the public library.

    Дин

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because 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

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  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    was busily at work on my novel

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  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    The most fantastic parking-lot attendant in the world, he can back a car forty miles an hour into a tight squeeze and stop at the wall, jump out, race among fend

    Дин

  • b1510322064цитирует2 года назад
    fenders, leap into another car, circle it fifty miles an hour in a narrow space, back swiftly into tight spot, hump, snap the car with the emergency so that you see it bounce as he flies out; then clear to the ticket shack, sprinting like a track star, hand a ticket, leap into a newly arrived car before the owner's half out, leap literally under him as he steps out, start the car with the door flapping, and roar off to the next available spot, arc, pop in, brake, out, run; working like that without pause eight hours a night, evening rush hours and after-theater rush hours, in greasy wino pants with a frayed fur-lined jacket and beat shoes that flap.

    дин

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