I was uncomfortable writing fiction. My love was the personal essay, rather than the novel.

Life become difficult,if you are living it for others

What if at the last moment, when the banquet table is set and the cymbals clash, there should appear suddenly, and wholly without warning, a silver platter on which even the blind could see that there is nothing more, and nothing less, than two enormous lumps of shit.

Men hate passion, any great passion. Henry Cameron made a mistake : he loved his work. That was why he fought. That was why he lost.

Written By Ayn Rand

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