Quotes from Allen Ginsberg

who were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality. . .

One does not know yet whether Christ was God or the Devil - Buddha is more reassuring.

There is a god dying in America already created in the imagination of men made palpable for adoration: there is an inner anterior image of divinity beckoning me out to pilgrimage

What prophecy actually is is not that you actually know that the bomb will fall in 1942. It's that you know and feel something that somebody knows and feels in a hundred years. And maybe articulate it in a hint—a concrete way that they can pick up on in a hundred years.

that blue flame burnning? Industry!

False emotions broadcast thru the Land

Scream in despair over Meat and Metal Microphone

artificial trees, robot sofas, Ignorant cars- One Way Street to Heaven

all Revolution and Consumption, Manufacture and Communication

now the Great Fear's rolled round the world and washes over Newspaper Grey air

May no Evil Eye peek thru window, keyhole or gunsight at his white haired face!

Who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish.

First word … best word.

Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower?

who sought heaven under a mountain of stone, sat thinking till he realized the land of blessedness exists in the imagination -

The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy! The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy!

The weight of the world       is love. Under the burden       of solitude, under the burde       of dissatisfaction    the weight, the weight we carry       is love.

America this is quite serious

And the Children of the Warmakers're exempt from fighting their parents' war

Mothers weep and Sons be dumb your brothers and children murder the beautiful yellow bodies of Indochina in dreams invented for your eyes by TV

robots pencil prescriptions for acid gas sunsets

I feel my life is sterile, I am unbloomed, unused, I have nothing I can have that I will ever want, only some love, only dearness and tenderness, to make me weep. I am moved now and sad and unhappy beyond cold unhappiness, beyond any inconvenience that will cause you by my affection.

Central Intelligence cutting Meo opium fields! China Lobby copping poppies in Burma! How long this Addict government support our oil-burner matter-habit

Don't you see that I cannot be composed, I cannot reconcile myself, because there is no other reality but loneliness for me and before I am dragged back into isolation I will clasp and grasp and claw in fright even at you without consciousness—even I—and I am afraid that I cannot survive if I have to go on into myself.