Sometimes the art of writing seems to be no art at all, but wholly contained in the one word sincerity. But sincerity, when one looks further into it ceases to be the simple quality, it at first sight appears: it becomes the habit of equipoise in a world of humors and sufferings of which it is deeply aware, by simply saying these three words love, time, want, a thousand words and stories fill your mind, therefore whatever i were to write about them would be pointless because your mind would be else where.

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