The miniature collection of Jack Kerouac, from On The Road, to Big Sur and onwards to Visions of Cody.
Man, you can dig a whole lot about a cat by their bookshelves, you dig? You can groove on what kind of visions they have, what kind of roads they travel, what kind of cats they jive with. You can dig if they’re in the know of the new, or if they’re hung up on the old.
Bookshelves are like spyholes to the mind, and you can take a gander and get wise to the guy behind them.
You can dig if they’re cool or square, if they dig their books or leave them dying in the dust. You can dig if they’re searchers or drones, if they’re hungry or fed up. You can dig if they’re living or dying, man.
Bookshelves are like peepholes to the brain, and you can sneak a peek and get hip to the cat behind them.
You can dig if they have the classics or the trash, if they have the poetry or the prose, if they have the fiction or just the facts, man. You can dig if they have the books that make you think or the books that make you feel, if they have the books that inspire you or the books that bore you, if they have the books that challenge you or the books that comfort you. You can dig if they have the books that reflect their life or the books that escape their life, man.
Bookshelves are like mirrors to the soul, and you can take a look and get wise to the cat behind them.
Bookshelves are like mirrors to the soul, and you can get wise.
