"Because in the end, you won't remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain"
"And before me was the great raw bulge and bulk of my American continent; somewhat far across, gloomy, crazy New York was throwing up its cloud of dust and brown steam. There is something brown and holy about the East; and California is white like washlines and emptyheaded - at least that's what I thought then."
3 likes
Source: Jack Kerouac, Ann Charters (1996). “Selected letters, 1940-1956”, Penguin Paperbacks
About the author