He felt at once betrayed and betrayer, deceived and deceiver. He was a criminal forced into crime, an unwilling whore.

Tell enough lies and you begin to be able to taste them. See them in the air. He’s an adulterer. Besides, any lie can be told, but only the ones that have bases in reality actually work. Accuse a good man of being a thief, people ignore the lie. Accuse a thief of a crime they did not commit, who would not believe? Most lies only work when they’re true.

I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection of paradoxes.