I Think There Is Something Barbaric In

Once A Little Boy Sent Me A Charming Card With A Little Drawing On It. I Loved It. I Answer All My Children’s Letters — Sometimes Very Hastily — But This One I Lingered Over. I Sent Him A Card And I Drew A Picture Of A Wild Thing On It. I Wrote, “dear Jim: I Loved Your Card.” Then I Got A Letter Back From His Mother And She Said, “jim Loved Your Card So Much He Ate It.” That To Me Was One Of The Highest Compliments I’ve Ever Received. He Didn’t Care That It Was An Original Maurice Sendak Drawing Or Anything. He Saw It, He Loved It, He Ate It.

I Hate Those E-books. They Can Not Be The Future... They May Well Be... I Will Be Dead.

When Mozart Is Playing In My Room, I Am In Conjunction With Something I Can't Explain... I Don't Need To. I Know That If There's A Purpose For Life, It Was For Me To Hear Mozart.

It Is A Blessing To Get Old. It Is A Blessing To Find The Time To Do The Things, To Read The Books, To Listen To The Music. I Have Nothing Now But Praise For My Life.

We're Animals. We're Violent. We're Criminal. We're Not So Far Away From The Gorillas And The Apes, Those Beautiful Creatures.