There Was Always Another Side To A

All Good Novelists Have Bad Memories. What You Remember Comes Out As Journalism; What You Forget Goes Into The Compost Of The Imagination.

Indifference And Pride Look Very Much Alike, And He Probably Thought I Was Proud.

I Wish Sometimes You Had A Few Bad Motives, You Might Understand A Little More About Human Beings.

I’m Not At Peace Anymore. I Just Want Him Like I Used To In The Old Days. I Want To Be Eating Sandwiches With Him. I Want To Be Drinking With Him In A Bar. I’m Tired And I Don’t Want Anymore Pain. I Want Maurice. I Want Ordinary Corrupt Human Love. Dear God, You Know I Want To Want Your Pain, But I Don’t Want It Now. Take It Away For A While And Give It Me Another Time.

Sentimentality - That's What We Call The Sentiment We Don't Share.