You won’t see them often, for wherever the crowd is, they are not. |--| But from them come the few good paintings, the few good symphonies, the few good books. And from the best of the strange ones, perhaps nothing. |--| They are their own paintings, their own books, their own music, their own work. Sometimes you will only note their existance suddenly in vivid recall, some months, some years after they are gone. "The Strongest of the Strange" by Charles Bukowski.