Certain things, they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.

It was a very stupid thing to do, I'll admit, but I hardly didn't even know I was doing it.

Listen, if you're not going to be a nun or something, you might as well laugh.

He said you were the only one who was bitter about S.'s suicide and the only one who really forgave him for it. The rest of us, he said, were outwardly unbitter and inwardly unforgiving.

But guilt is guilt. It doesn't go away. It can't be nullified. It can't even be fully understood, I'm certain - it's roots run too deep into private and long-standing karma. About the only thing that saves my neck when I get to feeling this way is that guilt is an imperfect form of knowledge. Just because it isn't perfect doesn't mean that it can't be used. The hard thing to do is to put it to practical use, before it gets around to paralyzing you.

God, I wish you could have been there.

I just hope that one day - preferably when we’re both blind drunk - we can talk about it.