“To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the inner music that words make.” — Truman Capote
For a few brief years we existed at the same time, we breathed the same air and we lived. I didn’t know who Truman Capote was nor did I feel the impact of his death in 1984; I was a toddler. Capote was a brilliant literary figure with limitless talents and he knew himself in a way that most people never would. I’m still in awe that we were on earth at the same time.