Nothing Is More Boring Than A Man

In The Camp, This Meant Committing My Verse-many Thousands Of Lines-to Memory. To Help Me With This I Improvised Decimal Counting Beads And, In Transit Prisons, Broke Up Matchsticks And Used The Fragments As Tallies. As I Approached The End Of My Sentences I Grew More Confident Of My Powers Of Memory, And Began Writing Down And Memorizing Prose-dialogue At First, But Then, Bit By Bit, Whole Densely Written Passages. My Memory Found Room For Them! It Worked. But More And More Of My Time-in The End As Much As One Week Every Month-went Into The Regular Repetition Of All I Had Memorized.

Not Everything Has A Name. Some Things Lead Us Into A Realm Beyond Words.

Anything Too Far Out Of Tune With Our Attitude Is Lost, Either In The Ears Themselves Or Somewhere Beyond, But It Is Lost.

The Task Must Be To Banish From Mankind's Thought The Idea That Anybody Has The Right To Use Force Against Righteousness, Against Justice, Against Mutual Agreements.

Work Was Like A Stick. It Had Two Ends. When You Worked For The Knowing You Gave Them Quality; When You Worked For A Fool You Simply Gave Him Eyewash.