I Have This Idiot Name Tag Which

I Cry A Lot Because I Miss People. They Die And I Can't Stop Them. They Leave Me And I Love Them More.

I Don't Write For Children. I Write, And Somebody Says, 'that's For Children.'

And The Walls Became The World All Around.

Kids Lead A Very Private Life.

One Of The Few Graces Of Getting Old - And God Knows There Are Few Graces - Is That If You've Worked Hard And Kept Your Nose To The Grindstone, Something Happens: The Body Gets Old But The Creative Mechanism Is Refreshed, Smoothed And Oiled And Honed. That Is The Grace. That Is What's Happening To Me.