Quick Sketch of a Tall Reader

Charlie had often heard that shorter humans live longer than taller humans do. Something about the addition work required of the heart to get the blood to those more distant extremities. 

Being six foot five, this sometimes worried Charlie and he would have to remind himself of family members who had lived well into their nineties at heights that, while not freakish, would not be considered normal. 

He was a thin kind of tall, with large hands and large feet, large ears and a hawkish nose that seemed bent on removing his eyeglasses whenever he put them on to read, which Charlie did often.
    He had always been a big reader. His mother used to say that it was words that had made him grow so tall, as Charlie ate no more than she absolutely required, only read and read and read. Even at the dinner table. He would fork in his peas, his roast beef or mashed potatoes, never taking his eyes off the book beside his plate. Read, methodically chew and every third sentence, push his eyeglasses back up into place.