“In his writing he was always at his funniest, his smartest, his most thoughtful, and his most courageous and adventurous…. Prose so good it would make you laugh until you cried. I recognize now that his books are not the shade of him. They’re the quintessence of his soul, the distillation of a great adventurer and a good man. He’s still with us through those books on our bedside tables, by the tub, in our handbags, and on our reading chairs—in our hearts, in our minds, in his words. At his best, whenever we choose to seek him out. Given the inevitability of loss, I can think of no greater
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