Beautiful meaningful lies…

We had dinner at my house, and the summer night fields and softness and great stars bending close-pack’t, and odorous darkness, and flowers and hidden gardens, and the whole universe melting and falling down the skies all crumbled and soft, all blurred and transcendental with milky light, all immortal, all sacrificial and sighing, all too impossible to keep and bear so beautiful and so sad. I wonder why our life must quiver between beauty and guilt, consummation and sadness, desire and regret, immortality and tattered moments unknowable, truth and beautiful meaningful lies, knowledge and the genius of illusion, love and chagrin, “Time” and minutes, what-we-do and what-we-want–or other poles quivering elsewhere in greater softer darknesses.

– Windblown World, collected journals of Jack Kerouac

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