Yes, I'm happy, in human terms.
No man is happy but by comparison.
We pick our own sorrows out of the joys of other men, and from their sorrows likewise we derive our joys.
Being a child is horrible. It is slightly better than being a tree or a piece of heavy machinery but not half as good as being a domestic cat.
If we only wanted to be happy, it would be easy; but we want to be happier than other people, and that is almost always difficult, since we think them happier than they are.
I love my life, but I don't think I'm any happier than my younger brother Andre, who drives a garbage truck.
In order to have great happiness you have to have great pain and unhappiness - otherwise how would you know when you're happy?
What were the glories of the sun, if we knew not the gloom of darkness?
