读过 On the Road
I took a straight picture that made me look like a thirty-year-old Italian who’d kill anybody who said anything against his mother.引自第1页
The floors of bus stations are the same all over the country, always covered with butts and spit and they give a feeling of sadness that only bus stations have.引自第1页
and whisper sweet, little things in my ear, hugging and a-kissing, oh what we’ve been missing, Lover Man, oh where can you be . .
«What do you want out of life?» I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls.
«I don’t know,» she said. «Just wait on tables and try to get along.» She yawned. I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn. I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together; saying that, and planning to leave Denver in two days. She turned away wearily. We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad. We made vague plans to meet in Frisco.
I saw her poor belly where there was a Caesarian scar; her hips were so narrow she couldn’t bear a child without getting gashed open.引自第1页
the world would never find peace until men fell at their women’s feet and asked for forgiveness.
We only live once.
as I looked out the window and saw a sign that said USE COOPER’S PAINT and I said, «Okay, I will.»引自第1页
He said he had an aunt in Tulare, California, who owned a grocery store and as soon as we got there he’d have some money for us. Dean rolled on the floor laughing, it was so much like the kid in North Carolina. «Yes! Yes!» he yelled. «We’ve all got aunts; well, let’s go, let’s see the aunts and the uncles and the grocery stores all the way ALONG that road!!»
Walter’s wife smiled and smiled as we repeated the insane thing all over again. She never said a word.引自第1页
«All I hope, Dean, is someday we’ll be able to live on the same street with our families and get to be a couple of oldtimers together.»引自第1页
I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered, stabilized-within-the-photo lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, our actual night, the hell of it, the senseless nightmare road. All of it inside endless and beginningless emptiness. Pitiful forms of ignorance.
I was thinking of Dean and how he got back on the train and rode over three thousand miles over that awful land and never knew why he had come anyway, except to see me.引自第1页