Maybe When People Longed For A Thing

When A Person Knows And Can't Make The Others Understand, What Does He Do?

It Was Better To Be In A Jail Where You Could Bang The Walls Than In A Jail You Could Not See.

The Dimensions Of A Work Of Art Are Seldom Realized By The Author Until The Work Is Accomplished. It Is Like A Flowering Dream. Ideas Grow, Budding Silently, And There Are A Thousand Illuminations Coming Day By Day As The Work Progresses. A Seed Grows In Writing As In Nature. The Seed Of The Idea Is Developed By Both Labor And The Unconscious, And The Struggle That Goes On Between Them.

Don't You Loathe It When Doctors Use The Word 'we' When It Applies Only And Solely To Yourself?

It Is Music That Causes The Heart To Broaden And The Listener To Grow Cold With Ecstasy And Fright.