One Has No Talent. I

He Had Stylized Himself--life Was Easier That Way. He Had Chosen A Physical Mould Just As Writer Chooses A Technical Form.

Lies Had Deserted Me, And I Felt As Lonely As Though They Had Been My Only Friends.

It Is Impossible To Go Through Life Without Trust: That Is To Be Imprisoned In The Worst Cell Of All, Oneself.

For God's Sake Stop Making People In Your Image. Harry Was Real. He Wasn't Just Your Hero And My Lover. He Was Harry. He Was In A Racket. He Did Bad Things. What About It? He Was The Man We Knew.

Had Shakespeare Listened To The News Of Duncans Death In A Tavern Or Heard The Knocking On His Own Bedroom Door After He Had Finished The Writing Of Macbeth?