In The Temple Of His Spirit, Each

There's Only One Passion In Most Artists More Violent Than Their Desire For Admiration: Their Fear Of Identifying The Nature Of Such Admiration As They Do Receive.

It's The Person Who Would Sell His Soul For A Nickel, Who Is Loudest In Proclaiming His Hatred Of Money.

If It's Worth Doing, It's Worth Overdoing.

There Is Fear Hanging In The Air Of The Sleeping Halls, And The Air Of The Streets. Fear Walks Through The City, Fear Without Name, Without Shape. All Men Feel It And None Dare Speak.

All "public Interest' Legislation (and Any Distribution Of Money Taken By Force From Some Men For The Unearned Benefit Of Others) Comes Down Ultimately To The Grant Of An Undefined Undefinable, Non-objective, Arbitrary Power To Some Government Officials. The Worst Aspect Of It Is Not That Such A Power Can Be Used Dishonestly, But That It Cannot Be Used Honestly. The Wisest Man In The World, With The Purest Integrity, Cannot Find A Criterion For The Just, Equitable, Rational Application Of An Unjust, Inequitable, Irrational Principle.