The knowledge that my discriminations are skewed and not always universally desirable doesn't stop me in the least from making them.

For most of my life, I have wanted broad impact but now, at 72, I'm not so sure that's always my first priority.

Indeed, at times it's best to shut up.

I've had an enduring appreciation of psychology.

If someone in my family is getting emotionally bent out of shape, I've had to learn to adapt.

Doubt is my boon companion, the faithful St. Bernard ever at my side. Whether writing essays or just going about daily life, I am constantly second-guessing myself. My mind is filled with 'yes, buts,' 'so whats?' and other skeptical rejoinders. I am forever monitoring myself for traces of folly, insensitivity, arrogance, false humility, cruelty, stupidity, immaturity and, guess what, I keep finding examples. Age has not made me wiser, except maybe in retrospect.

The essay must be artistically rendered: You must keep the reader engaged, whether with wit, conflict, mischief, and/or yes, with honesty.