You Give Birth To That On Which

There Is No Hope Of Joy Except In Human Relations.

Perhaps Creativity Is Fumbling That Dance Step, Or Driving The Chisel The Wrong Way Into The Stone.

The Dignity Of The Individual Demands That He Be Not Reduced To Vassalage By The Largesse Of Others.

Action And Personal Happiness Have No Truck With Each Other; They Are Eternally At War.

If You Tame Me, Then We Shall Need Each Other. To Me, You Will Be Unique In All The World. To You, I Shall Be Unique In All The World…if You Tame Me, It Will Be As If The Sun Came To Shine On My Life. I Shall Know The Sound Of A Step That Will Be Different From All The Others. Other Steps Send Me Hurrying Back Underneath The Ground. Yours Will Call Me, Like Music, Out Of My Burrow