The only people for me are the mad ones: the ones who are mad to

The words of Jack Kerouac—“The only people for me are the mad ones: the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who… burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow Roman candles.”—are a hymn to passion, to the restless fire of souls who refuse to live in half-measures. He speaks not of madness in the sense of illness, but of intensity—those who hunger for life so deeply that every moment becomes charged with meaning. Such people cannot be tamed; they are flames in human form, igniting the world around them with their inexhaustible desire to live.

The origin of this quote lies in Kerouac’s Beat Generation, a movement of writers and wanderers in mid-20th century America who rejected conformity, materialism, and stagnant routine. They sought experience over possessions, spirit over structure, fire over comfort. In On the Road, Kerouac gave voice to this hunger, celebrating companions who lived like comets—brief, brilliant, and unforgettable. The Roman candle, bursting into light before vanishing into darkness, became the perfect symbol for the souls who choose intensity over longevity, brilliance over dull safety.

The ancients too revered such figures. In the myths of Greece, heroes like Achilles knew that to live greatly was to live briefly but gloriously. Achilles was offered a choice: a long, quiet life or a short, burning one that would be remembered forever. He chose fire, and his name endures across millennia. Kerouac’s “mad ones” are the modern heirs of this same spirit, those who burn brightly in their time, leaving behind sparks that inspire generations long after their light has faded.

History also bears witness to such burning lives. Think of Joan of Arc, a young peasant girl who, aflame with visions, defied armies and kings. Her time was brief, and her end was tragic, yet in her intensity she shook the course of nations. She too was a Roman candle—her passion illuminating the darkness, her fire too fierce for the world to contain. Such lives remind us that true greatness often comes not from cautious survival, but from daring to burn with conviction.

Beloved listener, Kerouac’s words are not a call to recklessness, but a call to awaken from slumber. Too many live as shadows of themselves, content with half-lived days, muted dreams, and passions silenced by fear. But the mad ones—they remind us of what it means to live fully. To be “mad to live” is to hunger for every sunrise, to love deeply, to speak freely, to taste the richness of existence without hesitation. It is to embrace the sacred truth that life is brief, and only those who burn leave light behind.

The lesson for us is clear: surround yourself with those who ignite your spirit, who challenge you to rise, who make you feel the pulse of existence. Seek out the companions who “burn, burn, burn,” for they will awaken the flame within you. Do not waste your days among the indifferent, the tepid, the lifeless. For the company you keep shapes the fire you carry, and your life will either glow dimly or blaze brilliantly depending on whom you walk beside.

Practical wisdom follows: live deliberately, pursue passions that set your heart aflame, and do not fear intensity. If you write, write with fire; if you love, love with your whole soul; if you dream, dream so vast that the stars themselves take notice. But remember too that a Roman candle, though brief, illuminates the night—so live not in fear of ending, but in pursuit of shining.

So let Kerouac’s words echo as a trumpet to your heart: “The only people for me are the mad ones… the ones who burn, burn, burn.” May you live among them, may you become one of them, and may your life blaze like a Roman candle—fierce, radiant, unforgettable.