Writing Is Not An End In Itself

Although Birds Coexist With Us On This Eroded Planet, They Live Independently Of Us With A Self-sufficiency That Is Almost A Rebuke. In The World Of Birds A Symposium On The Purpose Of Life Would Be Inconceivable. They Do Not Need It. We Are Not That Self-reliant. We Are The Ones Who Have Lost Our Way.

Real Art Is Illumination, It Adds Stature To Life.

The Perfect Bureaucrat Everywhere Is The Man Who Manages To Make No Decisions And Escape All Responsibility.

In The Ideal Sense Nothing Is Uninteresting; There Are Only Uninterested People.

We Tolerate Differences Of Opinion In People Who Are Familiar To Us. But Differences Of Opinion In People We Do Not Know Sound Like Heresy Or Plots.