"You wrote down that you were a writer by *profession.* It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion.... Since it *is* your religion, do you know what you will be asked when you die? But let me tell you first what you won't be asked. You won't be asked if you were working on a wonderful, moving piece of writing when you died. You won't be asked if it was ...published or unpublished. You won't even be asked if it was the one piece of writing you would have been working on if you had known your time would be up when it was finished... I'm so sure you'll get asked only two questions. *Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?* --Seymour to Buddy in the Old Tyger Letter in SAI which will h. alluded to a couple of days ago. To take dead aim for publication, for success--isn't that a bit like Buddy's mistake re the marbles at the close of SAI?