The Mind Has No Sex.

A Man Is Not A Wall, Whose Stones Are Crushed Upon The Road; Or A Pipe, Whose Fragments Are Thrown Away At A Street Corner. The Fragments Of An Intellect Are Always Good.

Let Us Accept Truth, Even When It Surprises Us And Alters Our Views.

Genius, Whether Locked Up In A Cell Or Roaming At Large, Is Always Solitary.

The Smoke Of Glory Is Not Worth The Smoke Of A Pipe.

Our Work Can Never Be Better Than We Are Ourselves.