American Counterculture · American Literature · Americana · Autobiographical · Classic · Coming of Age · Excerpt · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Stream of Consciousness · The Beat Generation

Jack Kerouac

She brooded and bit her rich lips: my soul began its first sink into her, deep, heady, lost; like drowning in a witches’ brew, Keltic, sorcerous, starlike. ― Jack Kerouac, Maggie Cassidy. (Avon 1959)

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