This is a wonderful glimpse of Twain, 64 years old, a "wholesome old man" as young Carew describes him:
It would be impossible to exaggerate the composure and gravity with which Mark Twain utters his quaintnesses--and I'm sure he wasn't in much of a mood for quaintnesses that morning. There is no after-gleam of self-appreciation, no swift glance to see how his point has "taken." I am sure he does not try to say funny things, only he sees life through a glass that distorts every fact into a paradox. Or perhaps it is the serious people that have a distorted view of life. I wish Mark Twain would say what he thinks about it.
The interview is here.
Via.
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