I Choose To Think Of

You're Looking At A Species Of Flimsy Little Two-legged Animals With Extremely Small Heads Whose Name Is Man...very Tiny Undeveloped Brain; Comes From Primitive Planet Named Earth. Calls Himself 'samuel Conrad'. And He Will Remain Here In His Cage With The Running Water And The Electricity And The Central Heat- As Long As He Lives. Samuel Conrad Has Found The Twilight Zone.

Why Do I Write? I Guess That's Been Asked Of Every Writer. I Don't Know. It Isn't Any Massive Compulsion.

Someplace Between Apathy And Anarchy Is The Stance Of The Thinking Human Being; He Does Embrace A Cause, He Does Take A Position, And Can't Allow It To Become Business As Usual. Humanity Is Our Business.

For The Record, Prejudices Can Kill, And Suspicion Can Destroy, And A Thoughtless Frightened Search For A Scapegoat Has A Fallout All Its Own For The Children, And The Children Yet Unborn. And The Pity Of It Is That These Things Cannot Be Confined To The Twilight Zone.

If It Sounds Good As You Say It, Likely As Not It'll Sound Good When An Actor's Saying It.