Propositions

Anyone who begins a sentence with, “In all honesty ... ”

is about to tell a lie. Anyone who says, “This is how I feel”

had better love form more than disclosure. Same for anyone

who thinks he thinks well because he had a thought.

If  you say, “You’re ugly” to an ugly person — no credit

for honesty, which must always be a discovery, an act

that qualifies as an achievement. If  you persist

you’re just a cruel bastard, a pig without a mirror,

somebody who hasn’t examined himself enough.

A hesitation hints at an attempt to be honest, suggests

a difficulty is present. A good sentence needs

a clause or two, interruptions, set off  by commas,

evidence of a slowing down, a rethinking.

Before I asked my wife to marry me, I told her

I’d never be fully honest. No one, she said,

had ever said that to her. I was trying

to be radically honest, I said, but in fact

had another motive. A claim without a “but” in it

is, at best, only half  true. In all honesty,

I was asking in advance to be forgiven.