What scares you about getting older?

Yes, well, that’s the reason that I don’t want to be in New York any longer. I don’t want to go to parties any more. There are no familiar faces anymore. You know, you go to a party and you hone in on the couple people you know. There are none of those people for me at parties any more. I’ve lost my sister, my brother, my editor, my publisher. It’s a whole generation gone by. Old war buddies of mine, my colleagues, my family.

The good part of aging is that you read more and more. You discover poets you never heard of when you were younger.

When my father was in his terminal year, I discussed death with him. I recall very clearly his relief that the cancer that was taking him was at least allowing him "all his marbles". Dementia in its varied forms is not like cancer. Dad saw the cancer in his pancreas as an invader. But Alzheimer's is me, unwinding, losing trust in myself, a butt of my own jokes and on bad days capable of playing hunt the slipper by myself and losing. You can't battle it, you can't be a plucky "survivor". It steals you from yourself. And I'm 60; that's supposed to be the new 40.

I saw them recently on their morning walk, and they caused me a pang. I have always wanted a pug and now I can't have one, because buying a puppy when you are too old to take it for walks is unfair. There are dog-walkers, of course; but the best part of owning a dog is walking with it, enjoying its delight when it detects the signs that a walk is imminent, and its glee when its lead is unsnapped and it can bound off over the grass, casting cheerful looks back at you from time to time to make sure that you are still in touch.

I cry a lot because I miss people. I cry a lot because they die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. ... And so it's what I dread more than anything is the isolation.

Long, lingering dementia, followed by death from choking on a fishbone.

It brings the freedom of having seen a lot of things and survived them.

Being alone and other people getting busier with families and life.

The fact that I smoke.

Mostly the pain. I don’t want to be trapped in a body that hurts.

Pain and loneliness.

Having regrets.

Not feeling old but everyone treating you that way.

The inability to do things for myself.

Forgetting the wonderful memories I have got from throughout my life. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with dementia.

Forgetting things.

Possible dementia.

Losing my mind.

I’m actually looking forward to getting older.

Losing my memory and not being able to work.