"We tell ourselves stories in order to live.  The princess is caged in the
consulate. The man with the candy; will lead the children into the sea.
The naked woman on the ledge outside the window on the sixteenth
floor is a victim of accidie, or the naked woman is an exhibitionist, and it
would be 'interesting' to know which. We tell ourselves that it makes
some difference whether the naked woman is about to commit a mortal
sin or is about to register a political protest or is about to be, the
Aristophanic view, snatched back to the human condition by the fireman
in priest's clothing just visible in the window behind her, the one smiling
at the telephoto lens. We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the
social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see,
select the most workable of multiple choices. We live entirely, especially
if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate
images, by the 'ideas' with which we have learned to freeze the shifting
phantasmagoria which is our actual experience...
                    
we tell ourselves that we are beautiful and worthy of people's time. We tell
ourselves that there has to be some rhyme or reason in it all. We impose
some order in the chaos. We tell ourselves that the other person is making
a huge mistake and that one day they will realize it...
All stories we make up in order to live.
We lie to ourselves every single day."    
                                                                                          
The White Album