"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, 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 like fabulous yellow roman candles"
- Jack Kerouac
I'm reading On the Road. Its one of those books that I think I would get more out of if I was constantly high/drunk/taking acid because the whole thing gets sort of repetitive in a somehow profound way.
