A moral or an immoral book.

I must admit a terrible secret: I think that I prefer good people to bad people. In my defense, however, I far prefer bastards to anyone else, and grant the brilliant the highest esteem. I think thoughtless people much worse than bad people. I like intent. I adore awareness.

I am not always sure that I want to be a good person. I am even less sure that I actually am one, although I'm equally uncertain about whether or not I'm bad. (I pray to every god I know that I'm not just middling or average. There is no worse fate.)

What I am getting at is this: I sincerely hope that I am never unintentionally cruel. I hope to be cruel, at least once or twice. I hope to nearly ruin someone. I want it to be subtle, meticulous, and beautiful. And I hope to meet someone who will be good enough at being cruel to me to make it worth both my time and theirs. Those who do it without knowing it, I think, are neither clever nor poetic, and I think that carelessness in the face of such great potential, or at least of an easy kindness, is hugely disappointing.