Id happily awake, stir up some Nescafe and wed talk about anything.
As Shepards health declined in his later years, Smith would visit him and help hone his final manuscript.
We didnt have to talk then, and that is real friendship, she recalls.
Credit: CARRIE SHALTZ/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images
Never uncomfortable with silence, which, in its welcome form, is yet an extension of conversation.
We knew each other for such a long time.
Our ways could not be defined or dismissed with a few words describing a careless youth.
We were friends; good or bad, we were just ourselves.
Read Smiths full tribute atThe New Yorker.
