I Was Absent At The Moment I

... Habit Starts At The Second Crime. At The First One, Something Is Ending.

Don't Walk Behind Me; I May Not Lead. Don't Walk In Front Of Me; I May Not Follow. Just Walk Beside Me And Be My Friend.

And Often He Who Has Chosen The Fate Of The Artist Because He Felt Himself To Be Different Soon Realizes That He Can Maintain Neither His Art Nor His Difference Unless He Admits That He Is Like The Others. The Artist Forges Himself To The Others, Midway Between The Beauty He Cannot Do Without And The Community He Cannot Tear Himself Away From.

Truth And Freedom, Having Few Lovers, Are Demanding Mistresses.

An Intellectual Is Someone Whose Mind Watches Itself.