Few People, Very Few, Have

Anecdotes Don't Make Good Stories. Generally I Dig Down Underneath Them So Far That The Story That Finally Comes Out Is Not What People Thought Their Anecdotes Were About.

I Can't Play Bridge. I Don't Play Tennis. All Those Things That People Learn, And I Admire, There Hasn't Seemed Time For. But What There Is Time For Is Looking Out The Window.

You Think That Would Have Changed Things? The Answer Is Of Course, And For A While, And Never.

I Just Believed It Easily, The Way You Might Believe And In Fact Remember That You Once Had Another Set Of Teeth, Now Vanished But Real In Spite Of That. Until One Day, One Day When I May Even Have Been In My Teens, I Knew With A Dim Sort Of Hole In My Insides That Now I Didn't Believe It Anymore.

It Was At This Time That She Entirely Gave Up On Reading. The Covers Of Books Looked Like Coffins To Her, Either Shabby Or Ornate, And What Was Inside Them Might As Well Have Been Dust.