...The world was his face, the flower of his face, the pale stooped disposition, the heartbreakingness and the holiness of his teachings of tenderness to me. Summers he'd lain a-afternoons, on back, in yard, hand to eyes. gazing at the white clouds passing on by, those perfect Tao phantoms that materialized, in one vast planet emptiness, like souls of people, like substantial fleshy people themselves...

Sometime in the same night that's everywhere, the same right now and forevermore. Amen.

from"Visions of Gerard" by Jack Kerouac