conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first two paragraphs for a book with the title 'Behind the Candelabra'?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Behind the Candelabra
  Liberace and AIDS were a major story, to be told and retold in the papers and on all the newscasts. Seymour Heller fought a last-ditch effort to keep Lee from being branded, on his deathbed, as an aging queen dying of AIDS. Heller built a solid wall of denial that the press didn't breach until Lee's death. Everyone associated with Lee, including his private doctor, told the same story. Lee had heart problems, complicated by anemia and emphysema. When Lee left the medical center, the people closest to him were quoted as saying he was feeling better. In fact, he left because he wanted to die at his beloved Cloisters rather than in unfamiliar surroundings.
  He would not be alone during his final days. The man who lived his life surrounded by other gay men would spend his final days being ministered to by women. Angie, Gladys Luckie, and another housekeeper, Dorothy MacMahain, would keep a constant vigil by his side while round-the-clock nurses gave Lee the best medical care available. But all their efforts would prove useless against a disease for which there is no known cure.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know four more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I sat in the church that day, listening to the well-meaning words, knowing they would be ignored by the press. Lee, having spent so much of his life trying to conceal his homosexuality, would now be remembered as the second famous entertainer to die of AIDS. By denying his homosexuality, by trying to conceal his AIDS rather than going public as Rock Hudson had done, I felt Lee had set the entire gay movement back a decade. Back in 1982, during the tabloid wars, Lee had said, "The gays are out to assassinate me." In a bizarre way that no one could possibly have foreseen—his prediction had come true.
  Lee's illness and subsequent death shook me up more than any other event in my life, made me take a serious look at where I was and where I seemed to be headed. A few months after I began to suspect Lee had AIDS, I finally managed to kick my chemical dependency. I joined an AA drug program where, coincidentally, my sponsor turned out to be a recovered addict who had also been introduced to hard drugs by Dr. Jack Startz. Staying clean is a battle I fight every day, and it's never easy. But it's essential to my survival.
  One day in April 1987, I got a pathetic phone call from one of Lee's people, a man who'd been with Lee through thirty years of performances. "I woke up this morning," he said, "and the damnedest thing happened. I completely forgot that Lee was gone. And you know, Scott, it's the time of year when we always go on tour. So I picked up the phone to call Seymour Heller. I was going to chew him out for not telling me when Lee and I would be leaving town."
  The poor guy's voice was quivering as he said, "Then it hit me. We'll never be going on the road again; there won't be any more tours." Like me, this man couldn't come to grips with the fact that Lee was dead. Like me, he seemed to be wondering what to do with the rest of his life now that Lee wasn't part of it. I could sympathize with the guy but I couldn't help him. I'd faced the same problem five years earlier and I still hadn't come up with a good answer for myself.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Lee, having spent so much of his life trying to conceal his homosexuality, would now be remembered as the second famous entertainer to die of AIDS. By denying his homosexuality, by trying to conceal his AIDS rather than going public as Rock Hudson had done, I felt Lee had set the entire gay movement back a decade. Back in 1982, during the tabloid wars, Lee had said, "The gays are out to assassinate me." In a bizarre way that no one could possibly have foreseen—his prediction had come true.
  Lee's illness and subsequent death shook me up more than any other event in my life, made me take a serious look at where I was and where I seemed to be headed. A few months after I began to suspect Lee had AIDS, I finally managed to kick my chemical dependency. I joined an AA drug program where, coincidentally, my sponsor turned out to be a recovered addict who had also been introduced to hard drugs by Dr. Jack Startz. Staying clean is a battle I fight every day, and it's never easy. But it's essential to my survival.
  One day in April 1987, I got a pathetic phone call from one of Lee's people, a man who'd been with Lee through thirty years of performances. "I woke up this morning," he said, "and the damnedest thing happened. I completely forgot that Lee was gone. And you know, Scott, it's the time of year when we always go on tour. So I picked up the phone to call Seymour Heller. I was going to chew him out for not telling me when Lee and I would be leaving town."
  The poor guy's voice was quivering as he said, "Then it hit me. We'll never be going on the road again; there won't be any more tours." Like me, this man couldn't come to grips with the fact that Lee was dead. Like me, he seemed to be wondering what to do with the rest of his life now that Lee wasn't part of it. I could sympathize with the guy but I couldn't help him. I'd faced the same problem five years earlier and I still hadn't come up with a good answer for myself.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Witness Protection works by changing pretty much everything about you to hide you among the population. I was sent to rural Florida and became an employee of an evangelistic church with a significant outreach program. Only God could have arranged for me to meet Him under circumstances that I would truly respond to. It was here that I quickly became a born-again believer and developed a reputation for my "testimony." In short order, the pastors learned that I could move an audience with my preaching and I became part of their itinerant preaching program. I was actually becoming something of a hot commodity in the television and radio evangelism scene, flying in private jets to speak at events held by respected preachers, including an appearance at a Billy Graham Crusade event. The Witness Protection marshals warned me, I will give them that. My service in sharing God's Word was raising my profile throughout America, including prisons, and Eddie Nash was able to pierce my veil of protection.
  I went to the door of the motel where I was staying in Jacksonville, Florida expecting a pizza. Instead I got five.38-caliber slugs—three in the abdomen (one striking my spinal column), one in the chest, and one in the head. The hit men left me for dead, and indeed I was technically dead for several minutes based on medical definitions. But I was rushed to University Hospital and revived, at least into a coma state. A coma that would last six months.
  During my preaching career, my messages had particularly affected a young divorcee in Maine. She felt moved by the Lord to pray for me and visit me in the hospital. Due to the circumstances, my room was guarded and a number of similar-minded people were turned away by law enforcement. In one of those coincidences that make it hard to believe in coincidences, my soon-to-be benefactor found herself on a business trip to Florida and able to walk straight through the entire hospital and directly into my room without any contact whatsoever with any official personnel. And so we were reading Scripture, and praying, and eventually she offered me shelter in her home in Maine.
  From 1991 to 2005, I lived in Maine with someone who had nothing but my best interests at heart. But my heart wandered continually, causing me to seek drugs and to leave her in Maine for more than just a few days at a time. For fourteen years, I always came back to Maine and to her and to the large group of dogs she had allowed me to bring into the house as pets. (To this day, I believe that, had I not met Liberace, a career with animals either as a vet or trainer would have been my best course.)
  In any event, in 2005, I could no longer resist the temptation to return to something like the life I had had with Lee. The problem was there was no Liberace. I had to finance my own lifestyle, and all I knew from a practical standpoint was drugs. I threw myself headlong into the crystal meth scene. After three separate stints in Delano and Corcoran California state prisons, I now find myself on disability (the heritage of one of the.38-caliber slugs against the spine) with the added plague of the same type of anal cancer that recently took the life of Farrah Fawcett.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: 38-caliber slugs against the spine) with the added plague of the same type of anal cancer that recently took the life of Farrah Fawcett.. After three separate stints in Delano and Corcoran California state prisons, I now find myself on disability (the heritage of one of the. I threw myself headlong into the crystal meth scene. I had to finance my own lifestyle, and all I knew from a practical standpoint was drugs. The problem was there was no Liberace.)
  In any event, in 2005, I could no longer resist the temptation to return to something like the life I had had with Lee. (To this day, I believe that, had I not met Liberace, a career with animals either as a vet or trainer would have been my best course. For fourteen years, I always came back to Maine and to her and to the large group of dogs she had allowed me to bring into the house as pets. But my heart wandered continually, causing me to seek drugs and to leave her in Maine for more than just a few days at a time.
  From 1991 to 2005, I lived in Maine with someone who had nothing but my best interests at heart. And so we were reading Scripture, and praying, and eventually she offered me shelter in her home in Maine. In one of those coincidences that make it hard to believe in coincidences, my soon-to-be benefactor found herself on a business trip to Florida and able to walk straight through the entire hospital and directly into my room without any contact whatsoever with any official personnel. Due to the circumstances, my room was guarded and a number of similar-minded people were turned away by law enforcement. She felt moved by the Lord to pray for me and visit me in the hospital.
  During my preaching career, my messages had particularly affected a young divorcee in Maine. A coma that would last six months. But I was rushed to University Hospital and revived, at least into a coma state. The hit men left me for dead, and indeed I was technically dead for several minutes based on medical definitions.38-caliber slugs—three in the abdomen (one striking my spinal column), one in the chest, and one in the head. Instead I got five.
  I went to the door of the motel where I was staying in Jacksonville, Florida expecting a pizza. My service in sharing God's Word was raising my profile throughout America, including prisons, and Eddie Nash was able to pierce my veil of protection. The Witness Protection marshals warned me, I will give them that. I was actually becoming something of a hot commodity in the television and radio evangelism scene, flying in private jets to speak at events held by respected preachers, including an appearance at a Billy Graham Crusade event." In short order, the pastors learned that I could move an audience with my preaching and I became part of their itinerant preaching program. It was here that I quickly became a born-again believer and developed a reputation for my "testimony. Only God could have arranged for me to meet Him under circumstances that I would truly respond to. I was sent to rural Florida and became an employee of an evangelistic church with a significant outreach program.Witness Protection works by changing pretty much everything about you to hide you among the population