You Are Never Called Upon To Prove

She's A Writer. The Kind Of Writer Who Wouldn't Be Published Outside. She Believes That When One Deals With Words, One Deals With The Mind.

The Man Who Lets A Leader Prescribe His Course Is A Wreck Being Towed To The Scrap Heap.

Believing In Fate Produces Fate. Believing In Freedom Will Create Infinite Possibilities.

Existence Is Identity, Consciousness Is Identification.

That Love Is Reverence, And Worship, And Glory, And The Upward Glance. Not A Bandage For Dirty Sores. But They Don’t Know It. Those Who Speak Of Love Most Promiscuously Are The Ones Who’ve Never Felt It. They Make Some Sort Of Feeble Stew Out Of Sympathy, Compassion, Contempt, And General Indifference, And They Call It Love. Once You’ve Felt What It Means To Love As You And I Know It – The Total Passion For The Total Height – You’re Incapable Of Anything Less.