I Knew One Thing: As Soon As

But Nothing Seems To Do Any Good.

Down These Mean Streets A Man Must Go Who Is Not Himself Mean, Who Is Neither Tarnished Nor Afraid...he Is The Hero, He Is Everything. He Must Be A Complete Man And A Common Man And Yet An Unusual Man. He Must Be, To Use A Rather Weathered Phrase, A Man Of Honor, By Instinct, By Inevitability, Without Thought Of It, And Certainly Without Saying It. He Must Be The Best Man In His World And A Good Enough Man For Any World

Until You Guys Own Your Own Souls You Don't Own Mine. Until You Guys Can Be Trusted Every Time And Always, In All Times And Conditions, To Seek The Truth Out And Find It And Let The Chips Fall Where They May—until That Time Comes, I Have The Right To Listen To My Conscience, And Protect My Client The Best Way I Can. Until I'm Sure You Won't Do Him More Harm Than You'll Do The Truth Good. Or Until I'm Hauled Before Somebody That Can Make Me Talk.

The Most Durable Thing In Writing Is Style, And Style Is The Most Valuable Investment A Writer Can Make With His Time. It Pays Off Slowly, Your Agent Will Sneer At It, Your Publisher Will Misunderstand It, And It Will Take People You Have Never Heard Of To Convince Them By Slow Degrees That The Writer Who Puts His Individual Mark On The Way He Writes Will Always Pay Off.

Neither Of The Two People In The Room Paid Any Attention To The Way I Came In, Although Only One Of Them Was Dead.