I've learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our disposition and not on our circumstances.
We just wanna be the happy bums that we are. That's all.
One thing a man must have: either a naturally light disposition or a disposition lightened by art and knowledge.
I'm not saying that I think one man is better than the other. I'm not saying that either is kinder or wiser or more ambitious, more thoughtful, confident, or able. But the fact is that when I'm with the one, comfort settles into my bones. I feel calm around him, as if the sun is smiling down on me and the world has suddenly become a sweet, safe place to be. I feel good about life―about myself. And it's hard not to want to be near someone who, just by their very nature, makes you feel that way.
It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.
A cloudy day is no match for a sunny disposition.
I have this wholesome disposition in a lot of my characters. A certain earnestness.
Situationism is a ludicrous proposition. It's ill-formed and it's perfectly French. That Gallic disposition towards common sense. L'Anarchie!