This is all so strange, this digital gathering with digital rituals to mourn the loss of a loved one. But since we're here, I'd like to light this Purple Glass Glow candle for Harry, as a nod to what he called the purple pens of Paris. When we first met as students at Oberlin, I had just come from Paris, where I had grown up as a UN brat. And in France at the time you could buy purple Bic pens, you know, the ordinary kind with a clear plastic stem and a colored cap, except purple. Harry just loved these, so I would always get him a couple whenever I went home. And I was thrilled to find a kindred spirit who saw in them what I did -- they seemed to suggest that the poets and dreamers and misfits were just like everyone else. So, a purple candle, Harry, to light your way, to light our loss.