So much of our lives is given over to the consideration of our imperfections that there is no time to improve our imaginary virtues. The truth is we only perfect our vices, and man is a worse creature when he dies than he was when he was born.
“My mother would beat me so bad, I wouldn't be able to sit down. And I would never snitch.”
“There is a backlash against me and everyone who has done buildings that have movement and feeling.”