To what faults do you feel most indulgent? To the ones that arise from urgent material needs.

The politicized sponsors of this pseudoscientific nonsense should be ashamed to live, let alone die. If you want to take part in the “war” against cancer, and other terrible maladies, too, then join the battle against their lethal stupidity.

I retain what's interesting to me, but I don't have a lot of strategic depth.

One can become quite used to the specter of the eternal Footman, like some lethal old bore lurking in the hallway at the end of the evening, hoping for the chance to have a word. And I don't so much object to his holding my coat in that marked manner, as if mutely reminding me that it's time to be on my way. No, it's the snickering that gets me down.

I personally want to "do" death in the active and not the passive, and to be there to look it in the eye and be doing something when it comes for me.

One can't indefinitely do for somebody what he is reluctant to do for himself.

I mean, what would I be doing if I couldn't write? But that fortunately hasn't proved to be the case and I can read any day. I still read a lot, and I can write any day, but much more slowly and fewer words.