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Lust wasn’t her only sin. There was also an actor’s envy.

I believed that, when it came to words, everything was allowed.

Your mother doesn’t want her daughter to be happy. Your mother wants her daughter to be impressive. And you tried, o!

Fifty years and I dream of him still, fifty years and every story, every joke, every bit of news or gossip leads back to him still.

In boyhood, guilt was a constant companion. I stopped mentioning the quarters that Mr. Wood put into my pocket.