"Sister," the old man told Nurse Gwendoline Howell, "you're trying to keep me alive as an old curiosity, but I'm done, I'm finished, I'm going to die." Before the next dawn, George Bernard Shaw had lapsed into final unconsciousness. A little over 24 hours later, the 94-year-old philosopher, playwright, professional pixie and self-styled "Bishop of Everywhere" was dead (see p. 30).
"Oh, Nancy." The end that came so peacefully and quietly to Bernard Shaw, in bed at Ayot St. Lawrence last week, was not unwelcome. "I am longing for my eternal rest," Shaw told a friend just after his 94th birthday. The...
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