It is a tight rope.
We both danced very, very carefully on the edges and fringes of truth.
If I really told you how I felt, really,
would you shrivel up like a slug in salt?
or would you be robust like
the bouquets of pink roses in the lane?
We swallow greedily any lie that flatters us, but we sip only little by little at a truth we find bitter. Denis Diderot