“There is, however, a similarity between juggling and composing on the typewriter. The trick is, when you spill something, make it look like part of the act.”

“Often the things that pop out of my typewriter regale me, especially when I am trying to say something else and in a different way only to have a kind of metamorphosis take place during the act of typing and―­―­whammo!―­―a concept I hadn't counted on is strutting it's vaudeville on the page.”

“The trick is this: keep your eye on the ball. Even when you can't see the ball.”

“Both money and art powdered as they are with the romance and poetry of the age are magic. Rather money is magic art is magik. Money is stagecraft slight of hand a bag of clever tricks. Art is a plexus of forces and influences that act upon the senses by means of practical yet permanently inexplicable secret links. Admittedly the line between the two can be as thin as a dime.”

“If this typewriter can't do it, then fuck it, it can't be done.”

“Not aimless. Not in the least. It's just that my aims are different from most. There are plenty of aimless people on the road, all right. People who hitchhike from kicks to kicks, restlessly, searching for something: looking for America, as Jack Kerouac put it, or looking for themselves, or looking for some relation between America and themselves. But I'm not looking for anything. I've found something.""What is it that you've found?""Hitchhiking.”

“Outlaws, like lovers, poets, and tubercular composers who cough blood onto piano keys, do their finest work in the slippery rays of the moon.”