I'm Not A Separatist. The Imagination Is

It Goes A Long Way Back, Some Twenty Years. All My Life I Had Been Looking For Something, And Everywhere I Turned Someone Tried To Tell Me What It Was. I Accepted Their Answers Too, Though They Were Often In Contradiction And Even Self-contradictory. I Was Naive. I Was Looking For Myself And Asking Everyone Except Myself Questions Which I, And Only I, Could Answer. It Took Me A Long Time And Much Painful Boomeranging Of My Expectations To Achieve A Realization Everyone Else Appears To Have Been Born With: That I Am Nobody But Myself. But First I Had To Discover That I Am An Invisible Man!

Man's Hope Can Paint A Purple Picture, Can Transform A Soaring Vulture Into A Noble Eagle Or Moaning Dove.

I Am Nobody But Myself.

Meaning Grows In The Mind, But The Shape And Form Of The Act Remains.

I Am Not Ashamed Of My Grandparents For Having Been Slaves. I Am Only Ashamed Of Myself For Having At One Time Being Ashamed.