I care about strangers when they're abstractions, but I feel almost nothing when they're literally in front of me.
The things he did on purpose were usually no different from the mistakes he made by accident.
He was forty bushels beyond bamboozled.
His lazy eye drifting around the room like a child looking for the bathroom.
But-when you really think about it-that emotional support only applies to the experience of living in public. We don't have ways to quantify ideas like amazing or successful or lovable without the fee...