“Today a small child weeping. Perhaps weeping is the wrong word. His mother explained to me that this was no true grief - this was pretend grief. This was grief, she said, designed to get something. And I thought, have I anything but pretend grief? And I asked myself what I meant, in these daily excretions of pretend grief, to aquire? And I couldn’t answer. And I felt true grief.”
~Joe Wenderoth, Letters To Wendy’s
