A Myth Is An Old Lie That

The Sharecropper May Lower His Eyes, But Not Because He's Less Of A Man. That's Just A Condition Of Society That Such Things Exist.

I Still Don't Even Know If The Sheriff Will Let Me See Him. And Suppose He Did; What Then? What Do I Say To Him? Do I Know What A Man Is? Do I Know How A Man Is Supposed To Die? I'm Still Trying To Find Out How A Man Should Live. Am I Supposed To Tell Someone How To Die Who Has Never Lived?

Nietzsche Said Without Music, Life Would Be A Mistake. To Me, Without Books, Life Would Be A Mistake.

When I'm Sitting In The Church Alone, I Can Hear Singing Of The Old People. I Can Hear Their Singing And I Can Hear Their Praying, And Sometimes I Hum One Of Their Songs.

And I Thought To Myself, What Am I Doing? Am I Reaching Them At All? They Are Acting Exactly As The Old Men Did Earlier. They Are Fifty Years Younger, Maybe More, But Doing The Same Thing Those Old Men Did Who Never Attended School A Day In Their Lives. Is It Just A Vicious Circle? Am I Doing Anything?