The Fact That Everybody In The World

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 Exploding Like Spiders Across The Stars.

Avoid The World, It's Just A Lot Of Dust And Drag And Means Nothing In The End.

I'd Sleep And Forget It; I Had My Own Life, My Own Sad And Ragged Life Forever.

On Soft Spring Nights I'll Stand In The Yard Under The Stars - Something Good Will Come Out Of All Things Yet - And It Will Be Golden And Eternal Just Like That - There's No Need To Say Another Word.

Burroughs Is The Greatest Satirical Writer Since Jonathan Swift.