London, How Could One Ever Be Tired

Auntie Phyl's Last Months In The Care Home Were Extra Pieces. Age Is Unnecessary. Some Of Us, Like My Mother, Are Fortunate Enough To Die Swiftly And Suddenly, In Full Possession Of Our Faculties And Our Fate, But More And More Of Us Will Be Condemned To Linger, At The Mercy Of Anxious Or Indifferent Relatives, Careless Strangers, Unwanted Medical Interventions, Increasing Debility, Incontinence, Memory Loss. We Live Too Long, But, Like The Sibyl Hanging In Her Basket In The Cave At Cumae, We Find It Hard To Die.

I'd Rather Be At The End Of A Dying Tradition, Which I Admire, Than At The Beginning Of A Tradition Which I Deplore.

Why Can't People Be Both Flexible And Efficient?

Nothing Fails Like Failure

I Actually Remember Feeling Delight, At Two O'clock In The Morning, When The Baby Woke For His Feed, Because I So Longed To Have Another Look At Him.