We Are Like Trees. We Wear All

If A Man Is Not Faithful To His Own Individuality, He Cannot Be Loyal To Anything.

I Have Forgotten Much, But Still Remember The Poinsiana's Red, Blood-red In Warm December.

It's When You Are Down That You Learn About Your Faults.

Idealism Is Like A Castle In The Air If It Is Not Based On A Solid Foundation Of Social And Political Realism.

I Know The Dark Delight Of Being Strange, The Penalty Of Difference In The Crowd, The Loneliness Of Wisdom Among Fools.