Adolescence attracts me not for the happiness I had, but for the happiness I believed I could have.
The easiest odds of happiness lie not with what we love most, but with what we love most uniquely.
Materialism is for the soul.
Happiness is the pursuit of nothing.
The young are eager to be adults, adults look forward to being retired, the retired envy youth. We possess the pieces of a happy life, too bad we cherish them out of sequence.
The pleasure of talking to oneself: who else besides me always and unfailingly desires to discuss exactly the same subjects I do?
Passions need a pinch of apathy to slow them down to the pace of enjoyment.
To do what one likes requires free time, money, and health. Children have health and free time but no money. Adults have health and money but no free time. The old have money and free time but no health.
For a fallen Marine, a heaven of harps would be hell.
On a ship, our thoughts are more spacious, our legs more cramped.
Wealth gives no help for ennui except a choice of which chair to be bored in.