He was a little boy, and she was grown up. She huddled by the fire not daring to move, helpless and guilty, a big woman.

All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.

I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg.

What is genius? It is the power to be a boy again at will.

We are all failures - at least the best of us are.

Most disquieting reflection of all, was it not bad form to think about good form?

Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.