Dead Anarchists Make Martyrs, You Know, And

There's No Way To Use Power For Good.

I Certainly Wasn't Happy. Happiness Has To Do With Reason, And Only Reason Earns It. What I Was Given Was The Thing You Can't Earn, And Can't Keep, And Often Don't Even Recognize At The Time; I Mean Joy.

My Imagination Makes Me Human And Makes Me A Fool; It Gives Me All The World, And Exiles Me From It.

I Am Living In A Nightmare, From Which From Time To Time I Wake In Sleep.

No Darkness Lasts Forever. And Even There, There Are Stars.