Writers Do Not Live One Life, They

Good Things Happen To Those Who Hustle.

The Cynic Is A Coward. He Foresees All Barrenness So That Barrenness Can Never Surprise Him.

When We Blindly Adopt A Religion, A Political System, A Literary Dogma, We Become Automatons. We Cease To Grow.

Coming Near Him Like A Ballet Dancer She Took A Leap Towards Him, And He, Frightened By Her Vehemence, And Fearing That She Would Crash Against Him, Instinctively Became Absolutely Rigid, And She Felt Herself Embracing A Statue.

We Are Going To The Moon That Is Not Very Far. Man Has So Much Farther To Go Within Himself.