"I never had much interest in the piano until I realized that every time I played, a girl would appear on the piano bench to my left and another to my right."

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your letters got sadder. your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all lovers betray. it didn't help. you said you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and the bridge was over the river and you sat on the crying bench every night and wept for the lovers who had hurt and forgotten you.

— Charles Bukowski