We wait always for something that does not come.
You may talk. And I may listen. And miracles might happen.
In order to write about life first you must live it.
The brave dies perhaps two thousand deaths if he's intelligent. He simply doesn't mention them.
But in the meantime all the life you have or ever will have is today, tonight, tomorrow, today, tonight, tomorrow, over and over again (I hope).
He did not care for the lying at first. He hated it. Then later he had come to like it. It was part of being an insider but it was a very corrupting business.