I´m A Stranger In A Strange Land.

When A Person Knows And Can't Make The Others Understand, What Does He Do?

Jesus Would Be Framed And In Jail If He Was Living Today.

The Dimensions Of A Work Of Art Are Seldom Realized By The Author Until The Work Is Accomplished. It Is Like A Flowering Dream. Ideas Grow, Budding Silently, And There Are A Thousand Illuminations Coming Day By Day As The Work Progresses. A Seed Grows In Writing As In Nature. The Seed Of The Idea Is Developed By Both Labor And The Unconscious, And The Struggle That Goes On Between Them.

I Do Not Have Any Home. So Why Should I Be Homesick?

In The Face Of Brutality I Was Prudent. Before Injustice I Held My Peace. I Sacrificed The Things In Hand For The Good Of The Hypothetical Whole. I Believed In The Tongue Instead Of The Fist. As An Armor Against Oppression I Taught Patience And Faith In The Human Soul. I Know Now How Wrong I Was. I Have Been A Traitor To Myself And To My People. All That Is Rot.