To Hell With Being Ashamed Of What

There Are Few Things In The World As Dangerous As Sleepwalkers.

I Was Never More Hated Than When I Tried To Be Honest. Or When, Even As Just Now I've Tried To Articulate Exactly What I Felt To Be The Truth. No One Was Satisfied

I Denounce Because Though Implicated And Partially Responsible, I Have Been Hurt To The Point Of Abysmal Pain, Hurt To The Point Of Invisibility. And I Defend Because In Spite Of It All, I Find That I Love.

I Was Pulled This Way And That For Longer Than I Can Remember. And My Problem Was That I Always Tried To Go In Everyone's Way But My Own. I Have Also Been Called One Thing And Then Another While No One Really Wished To Hear What I Called Myself. So After Years Of Trying To Adopt The Opinions Of Others I Finally Rebelled. I Am An Invisible Man.

Every Serious Novel Is, Beyond Its Immediate Thematic Preoccupations, A Discussion Of The Craft, A Conquest Of The Form, A Conflict With Its Difficulties And A Pursuit Of Its Felicities And Beauty.