They Are The We Of Me.

She Wished There Was Some Place Where She Could Go To Hum It Out Loud. Some Kind Of Music Was Too Private To Sing In A House Cram Fall Of People. It Was Funny, Too, How Lonesome A Person Could Be In A Crowded House.

But All The Time-no Matter What She Was Doing-there Was Music.

Justice Itself Is A Chimera, A Delusion. Justice Is Not A Flat Yardstick, Applied In Equal Measure To An Equal Situation.

You Don't Know What It Is To Store Up A Lot Of Details And Then Come Upon Something Real.

In The Face Of Brutality I Was Prudent. Before Injustice I Held My Peace. I Sacrificed The Things In Hand For The Good Of The Hypothetical Whole. I Believed In The Tongue Instead Of The Fist. As An Armor Against Oppression I Taught Patience And Faith In The Human Soul. I Know Now How Wrong I Was. I Have Been A Traitor To Myself And To My People. All That Is Rot.