Wait and wait. Most people's lives are spent waiting.

It may be true of all relationships, not only between fathers and sons, but between men and women. Nothing seems fixed. Everything is always changing. We seem to have very little control over our emotional life.

I go about looking at horses and cattle. They eat grass, make love, work when they have to, bear their young. I am sick with envy of them.

I feel that I am writing out of a full life. I am a rich man, rich in men known, in adventures had. I am rich with living.

It may be life is only worthwhile at moments. Perhaps that is all we ought to expect.

I had a world, and it slipped away from me. The War blew up more than the bodies of men....It blew ideas away.

The writer, an old man with a white moustache, had some difficulty getting into bed.