What's Done At Night Belongs To The

That Is Exactly The Writer's Problem. What Does Literature Stand For In A Hungry World?

Man Is Nothing Else But What He Purposes, He Exists Only In So Far As He Realizes Himself, He Is Therefore Nothing Else But The Sum Of His Actions, Nothing Else But What His Life Is.

Neither Sex, Without Some Fertilization Of The Complimentary Characters Of The Other, Is Capable Of The Highest Reaches Of Human Endeavor.

Heroism Is Not To Be Won At The Point Of A Pen.

How Can I, Who Was Not Able To Retain My Own Past, Hope To Save That Of Another?