I Love Myself When I Am Laughing.

Love, I Find, Is Like Singing.

Research Is Formalized Curiosity. It Is Poking And Prying With A Purpose. It Is A Seeking That He Who Wishes May Know The Cosmic Secrets Of The World And They That Dwell Therein.

So The Brother In Black Offers To These United States The Source Of Courage That Endures, And Laughter.

Tea Cake, The Son Of The Evening Sun, Had To Die For Loving Her.

I Do Not Pray. . . . I Do Not Expect God To Single Me Out And Grant Me Advantages Over My Fellow Men. . . . Prayer Seems To Me A Cry Of Weakness, And An Attempt To Avoid, By Trickery, The Rules Of The Game As Laid Down. I Do Not Choose To Admit Weakness. I Accept The Challenge Of Responsibility.