At Some Point In My Life I

What Is Always Overlooked Is That Although The Poor Want To Be Rich, It Does Not Follow That They Either Like The Rich Or That They In Any Way Want To Emulate Their Characters Which, In Fact, They Despise. Both The Poor And The Rich Have Always Found Precisely The Same Grounds On Which To Complain About Each Other. Each Feels The Other Has No Manners, Is Disloyal, Corrupt, Insensitive - And Has Never Put In An Honest Day's Work In Its Life.

The Vehemence Of My Moral Indignation Surprised Me. Was I Beginning To Have Standards And Principles, And, Oh Dear, Scruples? What Were They, And What Would I Do With Them, And How Much Were They Going To Get In My Way?

... I Was Merely A Disinterested Spectator At The Banquet Of Life.

I Always Expect People To Behave Much Better Than I Do. When They Actually Behave Worse, I Am Frankly Incredulous.

It's Difficult To Explain, But I Just Somehow Feel That I Never Really *have* Lived; That I Never Really Will Live--exist Or Whatever--in The Sense That Other People Do. It Drives Me Crazy. I Was Terribly Aware Of It All Those Nights Waiting For You In The Ritz Bar Looking Around At What Seemed To Be Real Grown-up Lives. I Just Find Everybody Else's Life Surrounded By Plate Glass. I Mean I'd Like To Break Through It Just Once And Actually Touch One.