There are 2 kinds of artists, essentially: those who want to make something popular, and those who want to make something dignified. But then there is still that rare hybrid case, and perhaps by that unintentional stroke of genius, in which one's work uncontrollably becomes both popular and dignified yet beyond its time.

A true prophet would rather be believed false by many but actually true than believed true by many but actually false.

The hype cheapens the hyped, as right things are then made wrong by exaggeration.

Who you are in public is a test of your conviction; who you are in private, integrity.

As cliché as it might sound, I'd rather lose than win by cheating. The latter is a much deeper, more personal loss in that one is admittedly whispering to himself his lack of competence. His cheating then begets more cheating, as he is ever-privately, ever-subconsciously insulting himself; thus, gradually deteriorating any remaining confidence.

The lust and the hunger? The thirst for power? And thus it is brewed, clearly, the heart's deadliest poison to integrity.