Had The Price Of Looking Been Blindness,

The Clock Ticked With Empty Urgency, As Though Trying To Catch Up With The Time. In The Street A Siren Howled.

The Act Of Writing Requires A Constant Plunging Back Into The Shadow Of The Past Where Time Hovers Ghostlike.

Many Of The Rites Of Passage, Those Rituals Of Growing Up Found In Our Society, Are In The Form Of Such Comic, Practical Joking Affairs--which We Ignore In The Belief That They Possess No Deeper Significance. Yet It Is Precisely In Their Being Regarded As Unimportant That They Take On Importance. For In Them We Ritualize And Dramatize Attitudes Which Contradict And Often Embarrass The Sacred Values Which We Proclaim Through Our Solemn Ceremonies And Rituals Of Nationhood.

The Truth Is The Light And The Light Is The Truth.

I Was Pulled This Way And That For Longer Than I Can Remember. And My Problem Was That I Always Tried To Go In Everyone's Way But My Own. I Have Also Been Called One Thing And Then Another While No One Really Wished To Hear What I Called Myself. So After Years Of Trying To Adopt The Opinions Of Others I Finally Rebelled. I Am An Invisible Man.