Self-pity Is Never Useful. It Tends To

Our Mythology Tells Us So Much About Fathers And Sons. ... What Do We Know About Mothers And Daughters? ... Our Power Is So Oblique, So Hidden, So Ethereal A Matter, That We Rarely Struggle With Our Daughters Over Actual Kingdoms Or Corporate Shares. On The Other Hand, Our Attractiveness Dries As Theirs Blooms, Our Journey Shortens Just As Theirs Begins. We Too Must Be Afraid And Awed And Amazed That We Cannot Live Forever And That Our Replacements Are Eager For Their Turn, Indifferent To Our Wishes, Ready To Leave Us Behind.

We Flashed Our Feathers When The Feathers Were Fit To Be Flashed, And Now, In Drearier Days, Many Stay Indoors.

Decay Is Quiet But Ghastly, Explosion Is Dramatic And Dreadful. There's Not Much To Choose Between The Two Of Them In Reality, And Most Of Our Lives Have Sufficient Of Both.

People Always Tell Me Either A. You Love Him. B. You Hate Him. My Usual Answer? C. All Of The Above.

One Of The Things About Parents And Children Is That There Is No Way That You Go Through This Without There Being Mutual Anger.