Right at the end of the war I wrote a piano sonata, which was written at a time when Sam Barber used to come down here and we used to have lunch together in a very nice old hotel that's now not there.
“If even dying is to be made a social function, then, grant me the favor of sneaking out on tiptoe without disturbing the party.”
“I have friends who remember seeing fish hauled onto a boat's deck and beaten to death.”