The laws say that men may not write unless the Council of Vocations bid them so. May we be forgiven!

This is how talents weave from generation to generation, how the shadow stretches, and how an artist born nearly a hundred years earlier begins to fill the soul of a child who shares his name.

I was not the most attractive child. I had two really big buck teeth. I was horrendous - long, lanky and gangly.

When I die I hope to go to heaven--whatever that is--and I want to be able to afford the price of admission.

Written By Ayn Rand

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