You Do Right By Me, I'll Show

The Sky The Sky- Same As It Always Was.

... A Gaggle Of Old Ladies Is Glued To The Window At The End Of The Hall Like Children Or Jailbirds. They're Spidery And Frail, Their Hair As Fine As Mist. Most Of Them Are A Good Decade Younger Than Me, And This Astounds Me. Even As Your Body Betrays You, Your Mind Denies It.--there Are Five Of Them Now, White Headed Old Things Huddled Together And Pointing Crooked Fingers At The Glass.

I Think There Is Just A Vein Of Humanity That Really Loves Animals And Really Loves To Read About Them.

I Am Ninety. Or Ninety-three. One Or The Other.

I Tend Not To Think About The Reading Public At All, Or The Business, When I'm Writing.