I must like my profession, since I can hardly distinguish myself from it.

I regret. I apologize. I blame myself. I continue as before.

The villain may be good looking, but his smile is never quite right.

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

Even alone we go on justifying ourselves.

Alone, I am satisfied with myself. With others, I am beset by troubling comparisons.

Bad faith likes discourse on friendship and loyalty.