happiness

Happiness is an illusion, Natalie. It doesn't actually exist.""Of course it does," I said. "It's what you feel when you're not sad.""That's unconsciousness. And I'm pretty sure that I'm miserable when I am unconscious, too.

I am happy.I have something to accomplish, create, and achieve.I am happy.

Happiness: the feeling of being alive.

The key to happiness? Find someone who would rather you be happy than themselves and then you treat them the same way. That way, no matter what, you are both trying to insure the OTHER person's happiness and in turn, yours is undeniable.

... but happiness is to joy as an electric light bulb is to the sun. Happiness always has an object, you're happy because of something, it's a condition whose existence depends on external things. Joy, on the other hand, has no object. It seizes you for no apparent reason, it's like the sun, its burning is fueled by its own heart.

...[A] certain degree of un-understanding (not mis-, but un-) is the only possible sanctuary which one human being can offer to another in the midst of the devastating intimacy of a happy marriage.

I hate you. I wish you was dead."Mrs. Carey gasped. He said the words so savagely that it gave her quite a_start. She had nothing to say. She sat down in her husband's chair; and as she thought of her desire to love the friendless, crippled boy and her_eager wish that he should love her--she was a barren woman and, even_though it was clearly God's will that she should be childless, she could_scarcely bear to look at little children sometimes, her heart ached_so--the tears rose to her eyes and one by one, slowly, rolled down her cheeks. Philip watched her in amazement. She took out her handkerchief,_and now she cried without restraint. Suddenly Philip realised that she was_crying because of what he had said, and he was sorry. He went up to her silently and kissed her. It was the first kiss he had ever given herwithout being asked. And the poor lady, so small in her black satin,_shrivelled up and sallow, with her funny corkscrew curls, took the little_boy on her lap and put her arms around him and wept as though her heart would break. But her tears were partly tears of happiness, for she felt_that the strangeness between them was gone. She loved him now with a new_love because he had made her suffer.

Nothing succeeds like indifference to success.

As we drove off into the moonless night, raindrops danced through our headlights like the fireflies of my childhood. I silently cursed the frailty of happiness and doubted whether it ever existed for me. I could remember happier times, though, and those memories fluttered about my mind like fireflies, beckoning with their elusive splendor. But chasing memories held no more promise than catching fireflies. The pursued feelings either vanished or lost their magic upon examination, hardly the green-glowing beauty seen at a distance. So I looked ahead of me and dreamed on into the darkness, hoping to one day find someone who would love me.

Our ancestors derived less from life than we do, but they also expected much less and were less intent on controlling the future. We are of the arrogant generations who believe a lasting happiness was promised to us at birth. Promised? By whom?

What did it matter if he existed for two or for twenty years? Happiness was the fact that he had existed.

it was dawning on me how uphill a poet's path was, and I confessed to her that if I had to be the choice between being happy or being a poet, I'd choose to be happy.

Just like your body and lifestyle can be healthy or unhealthy, the same is true with your beliefs. Your beliefs can be your medicine or your poison.

Pessimists never go on a voyage of discovery, equally so they never leave the shoreline in search of new horizons.

How does one craft happiness out of something as important, as complicated, as unrepeatable and as easily damaged as life?

Happiness is so nonsynonymous with joy or pleasure that it is not infrequently sought and felt in grief and deprivation.

Happiness and joy are not the same. For what does the fervent craving for joy mean? It does not mean that we wish at any cost to experience the psychic state of being joyful. We want to have reason for joy, for an unceasing joy that fills us utterly, sweeps all before it, exceeds all measure.

But there was happiness elsewhere which no description can reach.