If society is the prison, families are the cells, with no time off for good behavior. Good behavior in fact tends to lengthen the sentence. - John Updike

What you lose as you age is witnesses, the ones that watched from early on and cared, like your own little grandstand.

A woman once of some height, she is bent small, and the lingering strands of black look dirty in her white hair. She carries a cane, but in forgetfulness, perhaps, hangs it over her forearm and totters along with it dangling loose like an outlandish bracelet. Her method of gripping her gardener is this: he crooks his right arm, pointing his elbow toward her shoulder, and she shakily brings her left forearm up within his and bears down heavily on his wrist with her lumpish freckled fingers. Her hold is like that of a vine to a wall; one good pull will destroy it, but otherwise it will survive all weathers.

[Harry having drawn at golf] The shape of his collapse clings to him. Who says the universe isn't soaked in disgrace?