It Wouldn't Make For Sanity Would It,

I Could Not Ask Forgiveness For Something I Had Not Done. As Scapegoat, I Could Only Bear The Fault.

Once A Person Gave His Talent To The World, The World Put A Stamp Upon It. The Talent Was Not A Personal Possession Any More. It Was Something To Be Traded, Bought And Sold. It Fetched A High Price, Or A Low One. It Was Kicked In The Common Market.

We Can See The Film Stars Of Yesterday In Yesterday’s Films, Hear The Voices Of Poest And Singers On A Record, Keep The Plays Of Dead Dramatists Upon Our Bookshelves, But The Actor Who Holds His Audience Captive For One Brief Moment Upon A Lighted Stage Vanishes Forever When The Curtain Falls.

A Familiar Name On Its Own, However, Does Not Carry Its Bearer Far Unless The Talent Is There, And The Will To Work.

Writing Every Book Is Like A Purge; At The End Of It One Is Empty ... Like A Dry Shell On The Beach, Waiting For The Tide To Come In Again.