Frank Andrews wants people to know something about being a psychic: It is exhausting. Picking up random energy, being visited by unexpected phantasmas, listening to the troubles of the very much alive. It’s emotionally draining, especially if you’ve been doing the job for nearly 60 years.

Mr. Andrews, 83, has counted John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Princess Grace, Perry Ellis, Betsey Johnson and Jason Alexander among his many clients. Then there are his current patrons, many of whom are famous but whose names he will never reveal. “That’s why they trust me,” he said.

If it were up to Mr. Andrews, he would hang up his metaphysical mantle and see only one or two people a week. But his devotees, some of whom have been working with him for more than 40 years, won’t hear of it. “They won’t let me go,” he said, only half joking. They clamor for him to decipher their palms, read their astrological charts and tell them what is in the cards. Top of the list? Romance.

“Everyone wants to be in love,” said Mr. Andrews, who makes no predictions about politics.

On a balmy October afternoon, Mr. Andrews’s three-story Mulberry Street brownstone in Manhattan was decked out in Halloween decorations. Pumpkins, gourds, cardboard witches and black cats commingled with antique furniture and rugs: Think Grandma’s house, if Grandma spoke to ghosts every night.

Almost every inch of the town house’s walls is covered in art that was given to him from friends and clients. A Buddha figurine here. A crystal ball there. Fish swimming around a recessed tank built into a wall.

“It has a calming effect on people,” Mr. Andrews said of the fish tank. “Also, the water helps me to focus as I look away from the cards.”