Injustice Wears Ever The Same Harsh Face

And While The Ice Was Melting To Form A Flood In Which I Threatened To Drown I Awoke One Afternoon To Find That My First Northern Winter Had Set.

By And Large, The Critics And Readers Gave Me An Affirmed Sense Of My Identity As A Writer. You Might Know This Within Yourself, But To Have It Affirmed By Others Is Of Utmost Importance. Writing Is, After All, A Form Of Communication.

America Is Woven Of Many Strands; I Would Recognize Them And Let It So Remain. It's 'winner Take Nothing' That Is The Great Truth Of Our Country Or Of Any Country. Life Is To Be Lived, Not Controlled; And Humanity Is Won By Continuing To Play In Face Of Certain Defeat. Our Fate Is To Become One, And Yet Many - This In Not Prophecy, But Description.

I Am Invisible, Understand, Simply Because People Refuse To See Me. Like The Bodiless Heads You See Sometimes In Circus Sideshows, It Is As Though I Have Been Surrounded By Mirrors Of Hard, Distorting Glass. When They Approach Me They See Only My Surroundings, Themselves Or Figments Of Their Imagination, Indeed, Everything And Anything Except Me.

If The Word Has The Potency To Revive And Make Us Free, It Has Also The Power To Bind, Imprison And Destroy.