[This is a copy-edited and slightly expanded version of the text in WL.]
What would my 18 year old self say to me if, somehow, we could meet?
Possibly: “I know thee not, old man!” More likely: “Where’s my hair?”
Seriously, he’d be disappointed at how little I’ve managed to do, and maybe impatient with the plea, “I did my best”. I might tell him Orwell’s comment: “Everyone’s life seen from within is a failure”. He’d say: “Maybe, but that doesn’t change anything”.