Human Beings Want To Know

Today There Are A Lot Of Novelists Who Seem To Be Writing To Be Reviewed, Not Read.

Just Like That. Gone Forever. They Will Not Grow Old Together. They Will Never Live On A Beach By The Sea, Their Hair Turned White, Dancing In A Living Room To Billie Holiday Or Nat Cole. They Will Not Enter A New York Club At Midnight And Show The Poor Hip-hop Fools How To Dance. They Will Not Chuckle Together Over The Endless Folly Of The World, Its Vanities And Stupid Ambitions. They Will Not Hug Each Other In Any Chilly New York Dawn. Oh, Mary Lou. My Baby. My Love.

More Than Anything, It's A Game Of Innocence. Politicians May Come And Go, But They Always Get Booed At The Ballpark.

In The End, The Only Thing The True New Yorker Knows About New York Is That It Is Unknowable.

There Are 10,000 Books In My Library, And It Will Keep Growing Until I Die. This Has Exasperated My Daughters, Amused My Friends And Baffled My Accountant. If I Had Not Picked Up This Habit In The Library Long Ago, I Would Have More Money In The Bank Today; I Would Not Be Richer.