Darling, who do we love? Truman! Yes, yes, a man of many flaws, but he knew that and fought through as best he could, being divine, insisting that other people be as divine as possible, writing up storms and by lying, he told us the truth about the world as it. 

If you weren’t here, if you could be anywhere you wanted to be, doing anything you wanted to do, where would you be and what would you be doing?

That’s not writing, that’s typing

I love New York, even though it isn’t mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.

“there is only one unpardonable sin–deliberate cruelty. All else can be forgiven.” The Thanksgiving Visitor

“Imagination, of course, can open any door – turn the key and let terror walk right in.” In Cold Blood

“The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? any love is natural and beautiful that lies within a person’s nature; only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell. ” Other Voices, Other Rooms

from Breakfast at Tiffany’s: A Short Novel and Three Stories

• “would you reach in the drawer there and give me my purse. A girl doesn’t read this sort of thing without her lipstick.”
• “You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”
• “It may be normal, darling; but I’d rather be natural.”
• “Anyone who ever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot.”
• “Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.”
• She was still hugging the cat. “Poor slob,” she said, tickling his head, “poor slob without a name. It’s a little inconvenient, his not having a name. But I haven’t any right to give him one: he’ll have to wait until he belongs to somebody. We just sort of took up by the river one day, we don’t belong to each other: he’s an independent, and so am I. I don’t want to own anything until I know I’ve found the place where me and things belong together. I’m not quite sure where that is just yet. But I know what it’s like.” She smiled, and let the cat drop to the floor. “It’s like Tiffany’s,” she said.
• “Tiffany’s calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets. If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s, then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name.”
• “You’re wrong. She is a phony. But on the other hand you’re right. She isn’t a phony because she’s a real phony. She believes all this crap she believes. You can’t talk her out of it.”
• “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.”

It’s February – you need Persuasion

Easy Diaries/ Fill-in-Journals

True That – Mottos to Live By