There's No Match For The Silence Of

One Thing I Am Never Going To Do When I Grow Up Is Fall In Love, Drop Out Of College, Learn To Subsist On Water And Air, Have A Species Named After Me, And Ruin My Life.

A Couple Months After My Heart Attack, Fifty-seven Years After I'd Given It Up, I Started To Write Again. I Did It For Myself Alone, Not For Anyone Else, And That Was The Difference. It Didn't Matter If I Found The Words, And More Than That, I Knew It Would Be Impossible To Find The Right Ones.

In Life We Sit At The Table And Refuse To Eat, And In Death We Are Eternally Hungry.

There Was No One To Call Me To Bed, No One To Demand That The Rhythms Of My Life Operate In A Duet.

Bruno, My Old Faithful. I Haven't Sufficiently Described Him. Is It Enough To Say He Is Indescribable? No. Better To Try And Fail Than Not To Try At All.