But our notebooks give us away,
for however dutifully we record what we see around us, the common denominator
of all we see is always, transparently, shamelessly, the implacable
‘I.’ We are not talking here about the kind of notebook that is patently
for public consumption, a structural conceit for binding together a series of
graceful pensees; we are talking about something private, about bits of the
mind’s string too short to use, an indiscriminate and erratic assemblage with
meaning only for its maker.
- Joan Didion
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