I am free. I haven’t a single reason for living left. — Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea. (New Directions Publishing Corporation January 1, 1975) Originally published 1938.
It’s time. You must come down Once more to help me, head First, through the glass Without blemishing your eyes, the emptiness, the island Where the fireplace sings. Chuck your sword, Slow down mad star. Why don’t I have your body? Oh, If only we had your hips Wrapped in stone, wicked Beast of the… Continue reading Jean Cocteau
The silence is so intense that you can hear your own blood roar in your ears but louder than that by far is the mysterious roar which I always identify with the roaring of the diamond wisdom, the mysterious roar of silence itself, which is a great Shhhh reminding you of something you’ve seemed to… Continue reading Jack Kerouac