All my life, I have loved balloons – all balloons – the heavy English sort, immense and round, that have to be pushed about, and the gay, light, gas-filled French ones that soar into the air the moment you let go of them.
Seeing through is rarely seeing into.
It is sometimes the man who opens the door who is the last to enter the room.
Happiness is a light, an atmosphere, an illumination. It sets a personality. I always feel that it is a creation that is difficult for some and easy for others, but essentially an achievement, never an accident.