A Lie Hides The Truth. A Story

I've Always Known A Lot Of Very Bad People, Destructive, Brutes Of A Certain Kind. Then I've Seen These Lovely Impulses And What Not, And They've Stayed With Me And Comforted Me.

In My Early Twenties, That's When I Really Began To Write. Before That, I Was Too Busy Working, Keeping Myself Going.

Families Hold Each Other In An Iron Grip Of Definition. One Must Break The Grip, Somehow.

I Have A Painter's Memory. I Can Remember Things From My Childhood Which Were So Powerfully Imprinted On Me, The Whole Scene Comes Back.

A Lie Hides The Truth. A Story Tries To Find It.