Maggie Smith

Good BonesLife is short, though I keep this from my children.Life is short, and I__e shortened minein a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,a thousand deliciously ill-advised waysI__l keep from my children. The world is at leastfifty percent terrible, and that__ a conservativeestimate, though I keep this from my children.For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,sunk in a lake. Life is short and the worldis at least half terrible, and for every kindstranger, there is one who would break you,though I keep this from my children. I am tryingto sell them the world. Any decent realtor,walking you through a real shithole, chirps onabout good bones: This place could be beautiful,right? You could make this place beautiful.

I had been feeling a little rum. I didn't think it was anything serious because years ago I felt a lump and it was benign. I assumed this would be too. It kind of takes the wind out of your sails, and I don't know what the future holds, if anything.

I fear that I won't work in the theatre again. I'm sad about that. But I won't retire.