I'm a fan of Kerouac. This longish section (apologies!) from On the Road is for me utterley sublime.
''..just for a moment I had reached the point of ectasy I had always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into timeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm, and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on, with a phantom dogging its own heels, and myself hurrying to a plank where all the angels dove off and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness, the potent and inconceivable radiances shining in bright Mind Essence, inumerable lotus-lands falling open in the magic mouth swarm of heaven.
I could hear an indescriabable seething roar which wasn't in my ear but was everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds.
I realised that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn't remember especially because of the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it.
I realised it was only because of the stability of intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of the wind on a sheet of pure, serene mirror like water.
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