She Was Reaching The Limits Of How

[he] Didn’t Like To Think Of Himself As Vain, But There Were Definitely Times When He Wished There Was Someone On Hand To Take His Photograph.

I Contemplate The Idea That Maybe I'm An Alcoholic. I Get This Occassionally, The Need To Define Myself As Something-or-the-other, And At Various Times In My Life Have Wondered If I'm A Goth, A Homosexul, A Jew, A Catholic Or A Manic Depressive, Whether I Am Adopted, Or Have A Hole In My Heart, Or Possess The Ability To Move Objects With The Power Of My Mind, And Have Always, Most Regretfully, Come To The Conclusion That I'm None Of The Above. The Fact Is I'm Actually Not Anything.

For Some Time Now She Has Had The Conviction That Life Is About To Change If Only Because It Must. . . .

When You're Reading A Book, You're Always Looking For The Natural Place To Stop. With A Movie, You Can't Really Have That Sense Of It Coming Momentarily To A Halt; There's Pressure To Keep The Momentum Up.

All His Words And Actions Would Now Be Fit For His Daughter’s Ears And Eyes. Life Would Be Lived As If Under [her] Constant Scrutiny. He Would Never Do Anything That Might Cause Her Pain Or Anxiety Or Embarrassment And There Would Be Nothing, Absolutely Nothing In His Life To Be Ashamed Of Anymore.