January 16th, 1977
I had lunch with Juan yesterday. Most lunches with Juan involve not so much conversation as my listening to him talk. But I love to hear him talk. His fine sense of egotism and personal exuberance thrills me. I get such a vicarious excitement with Juan’s own sense of self-love. And I remember the night he cried over the telephone to me and showed a huge sense of desperation at not being loved. The primadonna who knows her glory is not touching that deep part inside needing real love. So Juan is a show-off. He’s a fine show off at that. And he knows I love him. I am a thoroughly appreciative audience for him.