We Lie. That's What We Do. You're

[i]t May Be That A Crowd At A Particular Moment Of History Creates The Object To Justify Its Gathering.

She Looks Like Someone I Want To Know, Or Maybe Even Be.

It Was The Hat. He Looked Sweet In The Hat. How Could A Man In A Fuzzy Blue Hat Have Used Human Bones To Pave His Roads?

What I Suddenly Understand My Job Is To Make People Uncomfortable. + I Will Do It All My Life. ---> My Mother, Sasha Blake, Is My First Victim.

I Find Myself Thinking More About The Past As I Get Older... Maybe Because There's Just More Of It To Think About. At The Same Time, I'm Less Haunted By It Than I Was As A Younger Person. I Guess That's Probably The Ideal: To Reach A Point Where You Have Access To All Of Your Memories, But You Don't Feel Victimized By Them.