JAMES ELLROY’S KILLER ON THE ROAD IS THE BEST SERIAL KILLER NOVEL EVER AND A GREAT ASS PIECE OF ART
"I stuck my gun in my pocket, bowed and exited like a great actor leaving the stage after curtain calls for a bravura performance. I had conquered sex and achieved psychic invisibility on the same day. I was inviolate; I was golden."
“‘Now you’re under the drinking age, so act frosty when the bartender asks what you’re having. Act gentlemanly with the lady of your choice, tell her a C note is tops, and then pour her the pork till the hogs holler for hell.’”
"The love noises grew more intense, and the words I was able to discern—"yeah," "give it," and "come"—issued from vulgar voices. it rattled me…To staunch the freeze I turned myself dumb and stared through the beads until I saw two women writhing, friction producing sparks where their nipples rubbed together; two men joined groin to groin…Then all four become one, and I got lost trying to see who was where. I came then, my hands grasping the beads."
"When streetlights illuminated their faces, I amputated limbs and heads and rearranged the parts; effortlessly, bloodlessly. And although unable to express the meaning if the act in words, I knew I was evolving three way symbiotic unions that transcended sex."
"I will not let you pity me. Charles Manson, babbling in his cell deserves pity; Ted Bundy, protesting his innocence in order to attract correspondence from lonely women, deserves contempt. I deserve awe for standing inviolate at the end of the journey I am about to describe, and since the force of my nightmare prohibits surcease, you will give it to me."