She's A Writer. The Kind Of Writer

You Love Your Work. God Help You, You Love It! And Thats The Curse. That's The Brand On Your Forehead For All Of Them To See. You Love It And They Know It, And They Know They Have You. Do You Ever Look At The People In The Street? Aren't You Afraid Of Them? I Am. They Move Past You And They Wear Hats And They Carry Bundles. But That's Not The Substance Of Them. The Substance Of Them Is Hatred For Any Man Who Loves His Work. That's The Only Kind They Fear. I Don't Know Why

She Watched The Prairies The Rivers, The Towns Slipping Past At An Untouchable Distance Below - And She Noted That The Sense Of Detachment One Feels When Looking At The Earth From A Plane Was The Same Sense She Felt When Looking At People: Only Her Distance From People Seemed Longer. - Dagny Taggart

No Happy Person Can Be Quite So Impervious To Pain (gail Wynand To Dominique Francon)

The Man At The Top Of The Intellectual Pyramid Contributes The Most To All Those Below Him, But Gets Nothing Except His Material Payment, Receiving No Intellectual Bonus From Others To Add To The Value Of His Time. The Man At The Bottom Who, Left To Himself, Would Starve In His Hopeless Ineptitude, Contributes Nothing To Those Above Him, But Receives The Bonus Of All Of Their Brains. Such Is The Nature Of The 'competition' Between The Strong And The Weak Of The Intellect. Such Is The Pattern Of 'exploitation' For Which You Have Damned The Strong.

It Is The Metaphysically Given That Must Be Accepted: It Cannot Be Changed. It Is The Man-made That Must Never Be Accepted Uncritically: It Must Be Judged, Then Accepted Or Rejected And Changed When Necessary.