Literature is not only a mirror; it is a map, a geography of the mind.
In the animal world individuals cheat, as do we.
Where do the words go when we have said them?
It's in Macbeth: "The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon." I seldom have occasion to pull it out, but it's ready and waiting!
You might 'write from the heart,' but you'd better polish with your brain.
In the end, we'll all become stories.