On the road

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones 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 roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes
'Awww!'

Jack Kerouac, On the Road