On the Road
"LA." I loved the way she said "LA"; I love the way everybody says "LA" on the Coast; it’s their one and only golden town when all is said and done. (I.12.11)
I thought all the wilderness of America was in the West till the Ghost of the Susquehanna showed me different. No, there is a wilderness in the East; it’s the same wilderness Ben Franklin plodded in the oxcart days when he was postmaster, the same as it was when George Washington was a wild-buck Indian-fighter, when Daniel Boone told stories by Pennsylvania lamps and promised to find the Gap, when Bradford built his road and men whooped her up in log cabins. There were not great Arizona spaces for the little man, just the bushy wilderness of eastern Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, the backroads, the black-tar roads that curve among the mournful rivers like Susquehanna, Monongahela, old Potomac and Monocacy. (I.14.7)
"Sal, where did you find these absolutely wonderful people? I’ve never seen anyone like them."
"I found them in the West." (II.4.8, II.4.9)