I got ready for bed, fed the fish and watched them for a few minutes, thinking, unwinding slowly. The I turned and headed for the bedroom, waving good night to Amelia. She's on the wall above the fake fireplace, a gorgeously voluptuous nude tomato, gaudy and bawdy and done in fleshy oils, who not only warmes the whole room when the fireplace isn't on but is a kind of contortionist. At least, she contorts around enough to smile at you over her superb fanny. Now, I don't care what anybody else has told you, that's art.

1964.