“Dear child, I only did to youwhat the sparrowdid to you; I am old when it isfashionable to be young; I cry when it isfashionable to laugh.I hated you when it would have taken less courage to love.”

“Do you hate people?”“I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around.”

“when I am feelinglowall i have to do iswatch my catsand mycouragereturns”

“I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”

“When I was young I was depressed all the time. But suicide no longer seemed a possibility in my life. At my age there was very little left to kill. It was good to be old, no matter what they said. It was reasonable that a man had to be at least 50 years old before he could write with anything like clarity.”

“I was a bore and didn't know when to smile or fake it. Or rather worse, I did but didn't.”

“when I was a boy I used to dream of becomingthe village idiot.I used to lie in bed and imagine myself thehappy idiotable to get food easily...and easy sympathy,a planned confusion of not too much love or effort.some would claim that I have succeeded.”