It’s hard these days to have a conversation, at least it is for me, about [Truman]Capote without “Good Night, and Good Luck” coming up in the same conversation.
- I loved my baby dolls when I was a kid. I used to pray with them and say good night to each and every one of them because I didn’t want their feelings to get hurt. I remember having that connection with my baby dolls.
- Man preys on man; and you mourn for the idle tapestry that decorated a gothic pillar, and the dronish bell that summoned the fat priest to prayer. You mourn for the empty pageant of a name, when slavery flaps her wing, … Why is our fancy to be appalled by terrific perspectives of a hell beyond the grave? – Hell stalks abroad; – the lash resounds on the slave’s naked sides; and the sick wretch, who can no longer earn the sour bread of unremitting labour, steals to a ditch to bid the world a long good night.