The Man Who Produces While

One Must Never Allow Oneself To Acquire An Exaggerated Sense Of One's Own Importance. There's No Necessity To Burden Oneself With Absolutes

Im Waiting, For What, My Kind Of People, What Kind Is That, I Can Tell My Kind Of People By Their Faces, By Something In Their Faces.

She Did Not Know The Nature Of Her Loneliness. The Only Words That Named It Were: This Is Not The World I Expected.

Love Is An Expression And Assertion Of Self-esteem, A Response To One's Own Values In The Person Of Another. One Gains A Profoundly Personal, Selfish Joy From The Mere Existence Of The Person One Loves. It Is One's Own Personal, Selfish Happiness That One Seeks, Earns, And Derives From Love.

You Who Prattle That Morality Is Social And That Man Would Need No Morality On A Desert Island - It Is On A Desert Island That He Would Need It Most. Let Him Try To Claim, When There Are No Victims To Pay For It, That A Rock Is A House, That Sand Is Clothing, That Food Will Drop Into His Mouth Without Cause Or Effort, That He Will Collect A Harvest Tomorrow By Devouring His Stock Seed Today - And Reality Will Wipe Him Out, As He Deserves; Reality Will Show Him That Life Is A Value To Be Bought And That Thinking Is The Only Coin Noble Enough To Buy It.