"Then the strangest thing happened. Everybody became so high that usual formalities were dispensed with and the things of immediate interest were concentrated on, and now it was the strangeness of Americans and Mexicans blasting together on the desert and, more than that, the strangeness of seeing in close proximity the faces and pores of skins and calluses of fingers and general abashed cheekbones of another world." - Sal Paradise
"This was 1968, and my grandmother had announced to me one afternoon that she'd like to try marijuana; she was hearing a lot about it. I hadn't previously tried pot myself, and without enthusiasm, I'd approached Dena when she was next in town - as a stewardess, she could fly free into Milwaukee, then come to visit me in Madison or go home to Riley - and the time after that, when my parents were at a fish fry, the three of us sat in my grandmother's bedroom, smoking a joint. 'While I'm having trouble seeing what all the fuss is about,' my grandmother said, 'I'm very grateful to you girls for satisfying my curiosity.' When the joint was gone, she lit a normal cigarette."
"Whereas pot either made Natalie contemplative or silly, for me it provided a kaleidoscope view of everything that was wrong with me. I could feel it opening all the windows in my head, giving me a panoramic view of my flaws."
"At Georgia Beach we sat on the concrete step of the empty lifeguard building. The bicycles lay collapsed at our ankles, rear wheels lightly spinning. Kate lit a joint and passed it to me. I drew from it slowly. It burned my throat, searing and disinfecting it, making me think of animal skins tanned to make teepees. Indians used to get high, and when they did, they felt high just the same as me." -Eveline Auerbach
