The story of my life doesn’t exist. Does not exist. There’s never any center to it. No path, no line. There are great spaces where you pretend there used to be someone, but it’s not true, there was no one.
“…not only the worst of the young are sent to prison, but the best — that is, the proudest, the bravest, the most daring, the most enterprising, and the most undefeated of the poor… those who are drawn to crime as a positive experience — because it is more exciting, more meaningful, more mysterious, more transcendental, more religious than any other experience they have known.”
Norman Mailer