Only The First Swath Cut By The

Violence Does Not And Cannot Flourish By Itself; It Is Inevitably Intertwined With Lying.

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.

To Reject This Inhuman Communist Ideology Is Simply To Be A Human Being. Such A Rejection Is More Than A Political Act. It Is A Protest Of Our Souls Against Those Who Would Have Us Forget The Concepts Of Good And Evil.

Any Man Who Has Once Proclaimed Violence As His Method Is Inevitably Forced To Take The Lie As His Principle.

It Is The Artist Who Realizes That There Is A Supreme Force Above Him And Works Gladly Away As A Small Apprentice Under God's Heaven.