Curiosity Is Insubordination In Its Purest Form.

And She Was Mine, She Was Mine, The Key Was In My Fist, My Fist Was In My Pocket, She Was Mine.

All Colors Made Me Happy: Even Gray. My Eyes Were Such That Literally They Took Photographs.

There Is No Science Without Fancy And No Art Without Fact.

Only Ambitious Nonentities And Hearty Mediocrities Exhibit Their Rough Drafts. It's Like Passing Around Samples Of Sputum.

I Should Allow Only My Heart To Have Imagination; And For The Rest Rely On Memory, That Long Drawn Sunset Of One's Personal Truth.