How could I be anything but a dissenter? Who wants the opinion of a group?

Here we write well when we expose frauds and hypocrites. We are great at counting warts and blemishes and weighting feet of clay. In expressing love, we belong among the underdeveloped countries.

In here, the human bosom -- mine, yours, everybody's -- there isn't just one soul. There's a lot of souls. But there are two main ones, the real soul and a pretender soul. Now! Every man realizes that he has to love something or somebody. He feels that he must go outward. 'If thou canst not love, what art thou?' Are you with me?

One must bear in mind the odd angle or slant that the rays of love have to take in order to reach a heart like mine.

Art is order, made out of the chaos of life.

I would like to explain that I consider prayer above all an act of gratitude for existence.

Myself is thus and so, and will continue thus and so. And why fight it? My balance comes from instability.