My Memories Of Them Had Rubbed Thin

I Can't Explain The Alchemy That Transmuted One Evening Into The Equivalent Of Years Held Lightly In Common. The Only Way I Can Put It Is That We Recognized, Too Surely Even For Surprise, That We Shared The Same Currency.

I Wasn't Sure I Could Make It Through Another Hour Of His Company Without Throwing My Stapler At His Head.

What I Am Telling You, Before You Begin My Story, Is This -- Two Things: I Crave Truth. And I Lie.

I Am, Of Course, Romanticizing; A Chronic Tendency Of Mine.

But Give Me More Credit Than That. Someone Else May Have Dealt The Hand, But I Picked It Up Off The Table, I Played Every Card, And I Had My Reasons.