WrongSideoftheBed

(i.e., where I probably woke up this morning)

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But then, he hated most places that were not New York; away from it over any period and he dried up with misery: to be elsewhere seemed a waste of time, an exile from the main current into sluggish by-streams where life was flat and spurious.
Truman Capote, Summer Crossing

Filed under new york characters

  1. wrongside posted this