I'd rob a grave, I'd steal two-bits off a dead man's eyes if I thought it would contribute to the day's enjoyment - but unto-thyself-type honest. Be anything but a coward, a pretender, an emotional crook, a whore: I'd rather have cancer than a dishonest heart. Which isn't being pious. Just pratical. Cancer may cool you, but the other's sure to. Oh, screw it, cookie - hand me my guitar and I'll sing you a fado in the most perfect Portuguese.

Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany´s