Injustice Wears Ever The Same Harsh Face

You Start Saul, And End Up Paul,' My Grandfather Had Often Said. 'when You're A Youngun, You Saul, But Let Life Whup Your Head A Bit And You Starts To Trying To Be Paul - Though You Still Sauls Around On The Side.

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.

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

If Social Protest Is Antithetical To Art, What Then Shall We Make Of Goya, Dickens, And Twain?

I Suddenly Recall The Arpeggios Of Laughter Lilting Across The Tender, Springtime Grass-gay-welling, Far-floating, Fluent, Spontaneous, A Bell-like Feminine Fluting, Then Suppressed; As Though Snuffed Swiftly And Irrevocably Beneath The Quiet Solemnity Of The Vespered Air Now Vibrant With Somber Chapel Bells.