He was not happy. He was not happy. He said the words to himself. He recognized this as the true state of affairs. He wore his happiness like a mask … - Ray Bradbury

He wore his happiness like a mask and the girl had run off across the lawn with the mask and there was no way of going to knock on her door and ask for it back.

"They walked still farther and the girl said, "Is it true that long ago firemen put fires out instead of going to start them?"
No. Houses have always been fireproof, take my word for it."
Strange. I heard once that a long time ago houses used to burn by accident and they needed firemen to stop the flames.

There was a silly damn bird called a phoenix back before Christ, every few hundred years he built a pyre and burnt himself up. He must have been the first cousin to Man. But every time he burnt himself up he sprang out of the ashes, he got himself born all over again. And it looks like we're doing the same thing, over and over, but we're got on damn thing the phoenix never had. We know the damn silly thing we just did. We know all the damn silly things we've done for a thousand years and as long as we know that and always have it around where we can see it, someday we'll stop making the goddamn funeral pyres and jumping in the middle of them. We pick up a few more people that remember every generation.

I'll hold on to the world tight some day. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning.