So you come soon to power, but you have merely inherited the crisis and yours is the profit of cancer.

Kerouac lacks discipline, intelligence, honesty and a sense of the novel. His rhythms are erratic, his sense of character is nil, and he is as pretentious as a rich whore, sentimental as a lollypop.

A fire had begun to spread in me. It was burning now in my stomach and my lungs were dry as old leaves, my heart had a herded pressure which gave promise to explode.

At the end of medicine is dope; at the end of life is death; at the end of man may be the Hell which arrives from the vanities of the mind.

How his hatred seethed in search of a justifiable excuse.

The Irish are the only men who know how to cry for the dirty polluted blood of all the world.

Yank! Yank! We you come to get Yank. We you come to get.

Just as a fighter has to feel that he possesses the right to do physical damage to another man, so a writer has to be ready to take chances with his readers’ lives.

His decision had been made in the valley, and it lay as an iron warp in his mind. He could have turned back no more easily than he could have killed himself.

It takes all kinds to make a world.

The feeling of joy came up in me again the way the lyric of a song might remind a man on the edge of insanity that soon he will be insane again and there is a world there more interesting than his own.

Rip the prisons open put the convicts on television

Goldstein, you'd be a pretty good boy if you wasn't so chicken.

I could not begin to mourn Deborah or my mind would ride off with me. There was nothing so delicate in all the world as one's last touch of control.

...the Waldorf looked like one of the dead and empty spaces which collect about the exit of a man who has lost a million in an hour.

There is something silly about a man who wears a white suit all the time, especially in New York." (on Tom Wolfe)

Certain kinds of honor could not be lost without demanding that one consecrate oneself thereafter—no matter how unsuited and unprepared—to a life of revenge. I

Perhaps the measure of the best art is that it does not excite envy.

Then comes the left jab again. A converted southpaw? It has something of the shift of locus which comes from making love to a brunette when she is wearing a blond wig.

If men could move out of infancy at half a mile an hour and get up to eighteen thousand miles an hour in one lifetime, well, who was to assume that the walls of the universe were safe from future men?

American’s capacity for real estate improvement; build yourself a house, grow fat in it, and die.

I HATE EVERYTHING WHICH IS NOT IN MYSELF

The Anti-Semiten. Why don’t they ever learn? Why does God permit it?” Roth sneered. “God is a luxury I don’t give myself.

Listen my love the hour is late my side has an ache If you don't get a taxi my heart will break

You know,” he laughed easily, “with all the goddam drinkin’ Ah’ve done, Ah still can’t remember the taste of it unless Ah got the bottle right with me.