There, Where One Burns Books...

There Is No Sixth Commandment In Art. The Poet Is Entitled To Lay His Hands On Whatever Material He Finds Necessary For His Work.

God Will Pardon: That's His Business.

And The Dancing Has Begun Now, And The Dancings Whirl Round Gaily In The Waltz's Giddy Mazes, And The Ground Beneath Them Trembles.

Society Is A Republic. When An Individual Endeavors To Lift Himself Above His Fellows, He Is Dragged Down By The Mass, Either By Means Of Ridicule Or Of Calumny. No One Shall Be More Virtuous Or More Intellectually Gifted Than Others. Whoever, By The Irresistable Force Of Genius, Rises Above The Common Herd Is Certain To Be Ostracized By Society, Which Will Pursue Him With Such Merciless Derision And Detraction That At Last He Will Be Compelled To Retreat Into The Solitude Of His Thoughts.

The Negro King Desired To Be Portrayed As White. But Do Not Laugh At The Poor African; For Every Man Is But Another Negro King, And Would Like To Appear In A Color Different From That With Which Fate Has Bedaubed Him.