Life Is Weather. Life Is Meals.

Age Doesn't Arrive Slowly, It Comes In A Rush. One Day Nothing Has Changed, A Week Later, Everything Has. A Week May Be Too Long A Time, It Can Happen Overnight. You Are The Same And Still The Same And Suddenly One Morning Two Distinct Lines, Ineradicable, Have Appeared At The Corners Of Your Mouth.

I Don't Fear Death. I'm Not Obsessed With It The Way Everybody Else Seems To Be. It's Wrong To Say "everybody," But In Literature I See It All The Time - Preoccupation With It, Philosophical Preoccupation, In Fact. That's A Principle Element Of Literature And Philosophy, Often Cited As The Main Element, The Only Real Element. I Say Give It Up.

One Is Seduced And Battered In Turn. The Result Is Presumably Wisdom. Wisdom! We Are Clinging To Life Like Lizards. Why Is It So Difficult To Assemble Those Things That Really Matter In Life And To Dwell Among Them Only? I Am Referring To Certain Landscapes, Persons, Beasts, Books, Rooms, Meteorological Conditions, Fruits. In Fact, I Insist On It. A Letter Is Like A Poem, It Leaps Into Life And Shows Very Clearly The Marks, Perhaps I Should Say Thumbprints, Of An Unwilling Or Unready Composer.

They Lay Silently. She Was Staring At Something Across The Room. She Was Making Him Feel Uncomfortable. 'it Wouldn't Work. It's The Attraction Of Opposites,' He Said. We're Not Opposites.' I Don't Mean Just You And Me. Women Fall In Love When They Get To Know You. Men Are Just The Opposite. When They Finally Know You They're Ready To Leave.

Then It Was Intoxicating. The Smooth Takeoff, And The Free Feeling Of Having The World Drop Away. Soon After Leaving The Ground, They Were Crossing Patches Of Stratus That Lay In The Valleys As Heavy And White As Glaciers. North For The First Time. It Was Still An Adventure, As Exciting As Love, As Frightening.