All At Once I Felt So Vain,

Seeing Him Again After So Long Awakened Something Inside Me. I Was Surprised To Find Myself Feeling Sad Rather Than Joyful, As I Would Have Imagined.

I Don't Like Things Held Up Before Me That I Cannot Have.

No One Knows The Author Of Memoir So Well Like Himself.

He Was Like A Song I'd Heard Once In Fragments But Had Been Singing In My Mind Ever Since.

His Face Was Very Heavily Creased, And Into Each Crease He Had Tucked Some Worry Or Other, So That It Wasn't Really His Face Any Longer, But More Like A Tree That Had Nests Of Birds In All Of The Branches. He Had To Struggle Constantly To Manage It And Always Looked Worn Out From The Effort.