It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.

Ezra Pound (American, 1885–1972)

I feel like a wet seed wild in the hot blind earth.
William Faulkner

A pain stabbed my heart as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world.
Jack Kerouac

Accept loss forever.
Jack Kerouac

All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together.
Jack Kerouac

All of life is a foreign country.
Jack Kerouac

All our best men are laughed at in this nightmare land.
Jack Kerouac

Avoid the world, it's just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.
Jack Kerouac

Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.
Jack Kerouac

I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
Jack Kerouac

I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life.
Jack Kerouac

If moderation is a fault, then indifference is a crime.
Jack Kerouac

It is not my fault that certain so-called bohemian elements have found in my writings something to hang their peculiar beatnik theories on.
Jack Kerouac

Mankind is like dogs, not gods - as long as you don't get mad they'll bite you - but stay mad and you'll never be bitten. Dogs don't respect humility and sorrow.
Jack Kerouac

Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars.
Jack Kerouac

My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.
Jack Kerouac

My witness is the empty sky.
Jack Kerouac

Offer them what they secretly want and they of course immediately become panic-stricken.
Jack Kerouac

Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.
Jack Kerouac

Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?
Jack Kerouac

Write in recollection and amazement for yourself.
Jack Kerouac

You can't teach the old maestro a new tune.
Jack Kerouac

‘Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.’ –Arthur Rimbaud

John Dryden - Happy The Man

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

…and your retreat becomes your exile, your shelter becomes your prison, your solitude becomes your silent hell. What you gonna do? Where you gonna go? You carry your own hell under your chest, hoping that one day someone will force the way into the darkest halls of your soul, and free you from your own curse, after fighting your demons. But it doesn’t work that way. What do you think a soul is? A sum of everything you are. So beautiful in its complexity and yet so lonely.

Never hope another soul to free you from your own curse. Its your part to fight your demons, no one will free you from the fears and darkness you had in you all this time, most people are not willing to do it, and the rest are not capable of it.

You fight your own battle alone, who ever may join you is just a companion, a companion that may or may not leave at any given stage,

You cannot rely on others in a world where everyone is fighting for their own promised land…”

“Never mourn those who left you, existence in this universe is far more complicated than such attachments. You exist as a source that gives and receives all sorts of energies, don’t limit yourself to those negative in nature. Everything changes, nothing remains the same, everything evolves and moves towards every direction, open your eyes and seek new ways, new paths, new energies, new people. Open your mind, open your soul. Don’t stuck within a state of being, evolve, like the universe itself.

"Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot."

~~ D. H Lawrence

William Burroughs

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.

William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: -
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -and gazed -but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils