Honesty, For Me, Is Usually The Worst

I Think J.d. Salinger Is Correct In Granting No Interviews, And In Making No Speeches

Robert Walker As Bruno Was Excellent. He Had Elegance And Humor, And The Proper Fondness For His Mother

But There Was Not A Moment When She Did Not See Carol In Her Mind, And All She Saw, She Seemed To See Through Carol. That Evening, The Dark Flat Streets Of New York, The Tomorrow Of Work, The Milk Bottle Dropped And Broken In Her Sink, Became Unimportant. She Flung Herself On Her Bed And Drew A Line With A Pencil On A Piece Of Paper. And Another Line, Carefully, And Another. A World Was Born Around Her, Like A Bright Forest With A Million Shimmering Leaves.

Life Is A Long Failure Of Understanding ... A Long, Mistaken Shutting Of The Heart.

The Night Was A Time For Bestial Affinities, For Drawing Closer To Oneself.