[ Stamford, Connecticut] September 19, 1956
Dear Elmer-- 1
I'm sorry you didn't hear my muttered warning against reading Madonna at the last meeting. It's obvious that I had nothing to say and took overlong saying it. I doubt that it's worth revising, for there's still nothing on my mind.
My personal troubles have a way of snow-balling and compounding with physical troubles that would discourage me completely only I can't afford to die yet. The income tax people are holding a vast and growing claim over my head and seem inclined to hold it there the rest of my life, but it would fall on my estate automatically in the event of my death. This lends death a new terror, as somebody said in another connection. 2
Anyway thanks for your note, which I agree with, and I'll try to make a play out of something that doesn't require me to have any convictions.
[ Stamford, Connecticut] [ October 9, 1956]
Dear Victor-- 1
The Sin of Pat M is in a tradition so well known since Juno and the Paycock that I've grown weary of the whole subject. An ancient, irritable, blasphemous, dying but loveable Irishman says his last ten thousand words and goes to his own place. The hell with him. 2