I know the dark delight of being strange, The penalty of difference in the crowd, The loneliness of wisdom among fools.

And, hungry for the old, familiar ways, I turned aside and bowed my head and wept.

Idealism is like a castle in the air if it is not based on a solid foundation of social and political realism.

Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!