One reporter asked me to comment on a developing crisis in a foreign country. The danger is that I might start to take these people seriously. In a reversal of the tale of the Emperor With No Clothes, I might begin to believe the image that all these people think they see. Like Ray Bradbury's Martian-chameleon, I act like a Famous Person in front of user groups, like a Sagacious Mentor in the company of younger designers, or a Creative Genius in the presence of the press. And the dangers are all the greater because I want to believe these people, to be the unreal creature of their fantasies.
Failure is a lonely experience.
People cluster close to you in triumph and avoid you in failure. They treat your failure with either accusatory silence or sympathies that only confirm the magnitude of the disaster. Failure is an eye whose penetrating stare cuts through every rationalization. No amount of explanation, no mature self-analysis can dispell the simple truth of failure. Failure rides with two companions, Cynicism and Bitterness.