ime. tors are  me, but I am not. I ime for  of my life.

    Of our five cill living, and t is o visit, ten, and for t even ears t come ures line tage, my contribution to times I  all, or if s  understand anymore.

    I  he would do if he were me.

    I  seen y years and  a ss. I cannot picture  s sure if to a failing memory or simply time. I ure of oo en years it will be gone and so will I, and  for my diaries, I would swear I had lived only half as long as I have.

    Long periods of my life seem to e t remember ts of my life. times I sit and wonder w all has gone.

    quot;My name,quot; I say, quot;is Duke.quot; I have always been a John ayne fan.

    quot;Duke,quot; so ;Duke.quot; S, her forehead wrinkled, her eyes serious.

    quot;Yes,quot; I say, quot;Im ; And alo myself.

    S and red, and tears begin to fall.

    My  acime t thing I could do.

    S;Im sorry. I dont understand anyts o me rigen to you talk I feel like I s I dont. I dont even kno;

    S ears and says, quot; least, ;

    I ans I lie to   my ohis.

    quot;You are rengto those who shared in your friendships.

    quot;You are a dream, a creator of ist wouchousand souls.

    quot;Youve led a full life and ed for notual and you o look inside you. You are kind and loyal, and you are able to see beauty eacter t;

    I stop for a moment and catc;o feel lost, for:

    Not, or can be lost, No birtity, form - no object of thing;...

    t from earlier fires, ...