When Addressed, A Gentleman Cat Does Not

Gardening Is An Instrument Of Grace.

Why Should It Happen That Among The Great Many Women Whom I See And Am Fond Of, Suddenly Somebody I Meet For Half An Hour Opens The Door Into Poetry?

I Suppose Real Old Age Begins When One Looks Backward Rather Than Forward

My Own Feeling Is That The Only Possible Reason For Engaging In The Hard Labor Of Writing A Novel, Is That One Is Bothered By Something One Needs To Understand, And Can Come To Understand Only Through The Characters In The Imagined Situation.

I Am Not Ready To Die, / But I Am Learning To Trust Death / As I Have Trusted Life.