Loving, not the beloved, is the joy of love. The beloved, knowing this, most resolutely declines to be grateful. — Mason Cooley Copy Share Image
In the theater of confusion, knowing the location of the exits is what counts. — Mason Cooley Copy Share Image
Nostalgia keeps dissolving the ironic narratives in which I have contained my past. — Mason Cooley Copy Share Image
Even the most abject have a sense of superiority based on powerful though undefined merits. — Mason Cooley Copy Share Image
Literary tradition is full of lies about poverty-the jolly beggar, the poor but happy milkmaid, the wholesome diet of porridge, etc. — Mason Cooley Copy Share Image
My intentions go one way, my desires another. Thus I feel both self-indulgent and deprived. — Mason Cooley Copy Share Image
