Bill Styron walking with Aquinnah, Roxbury, Connecticut, April 29, 1979.
“For the last few months, whenever I have been home—which has been most of the time—I have been accustomed to taking long daily walks with my dog Aquinnah. Our walks are for business and for pleasure, and also for survival—interlocking motives that have somehow acquired nearly equal importance in my mind.
Without a daily walk and the transactions it stimulates in my head, I would face the first page of cold blank paper with pitiful anxiety.”
Excerpted from Havannas in Camelot: Personal Essays (Random House).