Injustice Wears Ever The Same Harsh Face

When I Discover Who I Am, I'll Be Free.

Our Task, Then Always, Is To Challenge The Apparent Forms Of Reality-that Is, The Fixed Manner And Values Of The Few, And To Struggle With It Until It Reveals Its Mad, Vari-implicated Chaos, Its False Face, And So On Until It Surrenders Its Insight, Its Truth.

I Blundered Into Writing.

I Am Nobody But Myself.

I Am An Invisible Man. No, I Am Not A Spook Like Those Who Haunted Edgar Allan Poe; Nor Am I One Of Your Hollywood-movie Ectoplasms.