The self-righteous feel no need to be charming, and thus double their offensiveness.

When I go out, I hope to leave the worst of myself at home.

If the world would apologize, I might consider a reconciliation.

My intentions go one way, my desires another. Thus I feel both self-indulgent and deprived.

In New York, pretending to be above the struggle means no seat on the bus and a table next to the kitchen.

I like what I do for a living. I also like NOT doing it--perhaps even more.

We often disguise our reflexes as deliberate actions.