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“Mama, They’ve Begun Again!”
Bronson Alcott and his transcendental friends hardly ever stopped talking. It left almost no time for mundane things like food and shelter
December 1964 | Volume 16, Issue 1
Alcott continued to attend the sessions of the School of Philosophy, a mute listener. He now lived an almost vegetable existence, as Emerson had done toward the end. At the age of eighty-nine he died, and Louisa May followed him only two days later. She had been faithful to the last in her almost lifelong task of taking care of him.