So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being brainwashed, and afterward you went about as numb as a slave in a totalitarian state.

Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.

The box is only temporary.

Widow. The word consumes itself.

I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!

It is a feeling that no matter what the ideas or conduct of others, there is a unique rightness and beauty to life which can be shared in openness, in wind and sunlight, with a fellow human being who believes in the same basic principles.

It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative--which ever is running at the moment dominates my life, floods it.