We are so used to dissembling with others that in time we come to deceive and dissemble with ourselves.
A work can become modern only if it is first postmodern. Postmodernism thus...
To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a...
From too much love of living From hope and fear set free We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever That dead men rise up never That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.
