There is nothing like death to say what is always such an artificial thing to say: The End.
To whom it may concern: It is springtime. It is late afternoon.
The hare of history once more overtakes the tortoise of art.
The two real political parties in America are the Winners and the Losers.
Well, it's practically over, thank God - I'm 83, there won't be that much more of it to put up with I don't think!
The only way to get anything out of a writer's brains is to leave him or her alone until he or she is damn well ready to write it down.