What an uncertain thing, marriage - what an elusive thing, happiness!

Marriage becomes hard work once you have poured the entirety of your life’s expectations for happiness into the hands of one mere person. Keeping that going is hard work.

What is it one yearns for? It is to be able to do a thing for the first time again. And that is impossible.

Oh, youth is a wicked, cruel thing - eating miracles with its breakfast and not knowing they are not porridge.

The only thing that matters is to have charm and expression. Then comes that horrible gnawing doubt of our own magnetism. Is it possible that, though we are not lovely, we are not irresistible either? That we will have to go through life belonging neither to the triumphantly beautiful nor to the triumphantly ugly?

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.