The classic think-tank is supposed to be sitting in an attic thinking up grand ideas.
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It is no use trying to sum people up. One must follow hints, not exactly what is said, nor yet entirely what is done.
Mother believed that I should have an enormous amount of sleep, and so I was never really tired when I went to bed. This was the best time of day, when I could lie in the vague twilight, drifting off to sleep, making up dreams inside my head the way they should go.
My greatest trouble is getting the curtain up and down.
Once upon a time there was an old country, wrapped up in habit and caution. We have to transform our old France into a new country and marry it to its time.
I can remember being in my pram: children stayed in their prams much longer then than they do now. A big bouncy pram with black covers and a hood with metal clips that could trap your fingers. I was looking up at my sister who was sitting on the pram seat, with her back to me.
Sure, I could of done it different… put my clown in a closet and dressed up in straight clothing. I could of compromised my essence, and swallowed my soul.
Bear up, my child, bear up; Zeus who oversees and directs all things is still mighty in heaven.
Thank God every morning when you get up that you have something to do that day, which must be done, whether you like it or not.
Follow your dreams, believe in yourself and don’t give up.