An Only Child Is Never Twelve.

The Press Blew, The Public Stared, Hands Flew Out Like A Million Little Fishes After Bread.

It's Not Till Sex Has Died Out Between A Man And A Woman That They Can Really Love. And Now I Mean Affection. Now I Mean To Be Fond Of (as One Is Fond Of Oneself) --to Hope, To Be Disappointed, To Live Inside The Other Heart.

The Pleasure Of One's Effect On Other People Still Exists In Age - What's Called Making A Hit. But The Hit Is Much Rarer And Made Of Different Stuff.

One Never Knows When One Is Old For Certain.

I Shall Continue To Explore-the Astonishment Of Living.