Style Is Not An End In Itself,

Guilt Is Altruism's Stock In Trade, And The Inducing Of Guilt Is Its Only Means Of Self-perpetuati On.

I Take No Pride In Hopeless Longing; I Wouldn't Hold A Stillborn Aspiration. I'd Want To Have It, To Make It, To Live It.

Don't Think. Believe. Trust Your Heart, Not Your Brain. Don't Think. Feel. Believe.

Toohey: "mr. Roark, We're Alone Here. Why Don't You Tell Me What You Think Of Me? In Any Words You Wish. No One Will Hear Us." Roark: "but I Don't Think Of You.

I Like To Receive Money For My Work. But I Can Pass That Up This Time. I Like To Have People Know My Work Is Done By Me. But I Can Pass That Up. I Like To Have Tenants Made Happy By My Work. But That Doesn't Matter Too Much. The Only Thing That Matters, My Goal, My Reward, My Beginning, My End Is The Work Itself. My Work Done My Way. Peter, There's Nothing In The World That You Can Offer Me, Except This. Offer Me This And You Can Have Anything I've Got To Give. My Work Done My Way. A Private, Personal, Selfish, Egotistical Motivation. That's The Only Way I Function. That's All I Am.