God is love, I said, but art's the possibility of forms, and shadows are the source of identity.

Whence all this passion toward conformity anyway? – diversity is the word. Let man keep his many parts and you'll have no tyrant states . Why, if they follow this conformity business they'll end up by forcing me, an invisible man, to become white, which is not a color but the lack of one. Must I strive toward colorlessness? But seriously, and without snobbery, think of what the world would lose if that should happen. America is woven of many strands. I would recognize them and let it so remain.

Man's hope can paint a purple picture, can transform a soaring vulture into a noble eagle or moaning dove.

Words are your business, boy. Not just the word. Words are everything. The key to the rock, the answer to the question.

I denounce because though implicated and partially responsible, I have been hurt to the point of abysmal pain, hurt to the point of invisibility. And I defend because in spite of it all, I find that I love.

Perhaps everyone loved someone; I didn't now, I couldn't give much thought to love; in order to travel far you had to be detached, and I had the long road back to the campus before me.

Please, a definition: A hibernation is a covert preparation for a more overt action.