When this is over, I'm not going to be the same guy. I am going to live as if I were a great man.

I was a Navy officer writing about Navy problems and I simply stole this lovely Army nurse and popped her into a Navy uniform, where she has done very well for herself.

For this is the journey that men and women make, to find themselves. If they fail in this, it doesn't matter much else what they find.

I was brought up in the great tradition of the late nineteenth century: that a writer never complains, never explains and never disdains.

During my lifetime I have met dozens of writers and photographers in dozens of different countries. But I have encountered no one who could both write and photograph with the artistry of Robert Vavra.

I had learned volleyball in the Navy, where all the captains and admirals wanted to be spikers, and I found then that a man who can subdue his own desires and master the art of serving others can make himself invaluable. In choosing sides the team captain always chose the good spikers on the first and second choice, but then the spikers would grab his arm and whisper, 'Take Michener.' I was never chosen lower than third, because I was needed. I wasn't good, but I was faithful.

I wondered how a man ever got an English girl into bed. What did they do with her hockey stick?