Happier Alone Quotes

Nico,” I said at last, “shouldn’t you be sitting at the Hades table?” He shrugged. “Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It’s a mood disorder. I can’t control it. That’s what I told Chiron.” “And is it true?” I asked. Nico smiled thinly. “I have a note from my doctor.” Will raised his hand. “I’m his doctor.” “Chiron decided it wasn’t worth arguing about,” Nico said. “As long as I sit at a table with other people, like…oh, these guys for instance…the zombies stay away. Everybody’s happier.” Will nodded serenely. “It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.” “Of course not,” Nico agreed.

I am a great soft jelly thing. Smoothly rounded, with no mouth, with pulsing white holes filled by fog where my eyes used to be. Rubbery appendages that were once my arms; bulks rounding down into legless humps of soft slippery matter. I leave a moist trail when I move. Blotches of diseased, evil gray come and go on my surface, as though light is being beamed from within. Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance. Inwardly: alone. Here. Living under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better. At least the four of them are safe at last. AM will be all the madder for that. It makes me a little happier. And yet ... AM has won, simply ... he has taken his revenge ... I have no mouth. And I must scream.

Dating is probably the most fraught human interaction there is. You're sizing people up to see if they're worth your time and attention, and they're doing the same to you. It's meritocracy applied to personal life, but there's no accountability. We submit ourselves to these intimate inspections and simultaneously inflict them on others and try to keep our psyches intact - to keep from becoming cold and callous - and we hope that at the end of it we wind up happier than our grandparents, who didn't spend this vast period of their lives, these prime years, so thoroughly alone, coldly and explicitly anatomized again and again.

In other words, stop judging yourself against shiny people. Avoid the shiny people. The shiny people are a lie. Or get to know them enough to realize they aren’t so shiny after all. Shiny people aren’t the enemy. Sometimes we’re the enemy when we listen to our malfunctioning brains that try to tell us that we’re alone in our self-doubt, or that it’s obvious to everyone that we don’t know what the shit we’re doing. Hell, there are probably people out there right now who consider us to be shiny people (bless their stupid, stupid hearts) and that’s pretty much proof that none of our brains can be trusted to accurately measure the value of anyone, much less ourselves. How can we be expected to properly judge ourselves? We know all of our worst secrets. We are biased, and overly critical, and occasionally filled with shame. So you’ll have to just trust me when I say that you are worthy, important, and necessary. And smart. You may ask how I know and I’ll tell you how. It’s because right now? YOU’RE READING. That’s what the sexy people do. Other, less awesome people might currently be in their front yards chasing down and punching squirrels, but not you. You’re quietly curled up with a book designed to make you a better, happier, more introspective person. You win. You are amazing.

I grew up with an ambition and determination without which I would have been a good deal happier. I thought a lot and developed the faraway look of a dreamer, for it was always the distant heights that fascinated me and drew me to them in spirit. I was not sure what could be accomplished with tenacity and little else, but the target was set high and each rebuff only saw me more determined to see at least one major dream to its fulfillment.

There is nothing so annoying as to be fairly rich, of a fairly good family, pleasing presence, average education, to be "not stupid," kindhearted, and yet to have no talent at all, no originality, not a single idea of one's own—to be, in fact, "just like everyone else." Of such people there are countless numbers in this world—far more even than appear. They can be divided into two classes as all men can—that is, those of limited intellect, and those who are much cleverer. The former of these classes is the happier. To a commonplace man of limited intellect, for instance, nothing is simpler than to imagine himself an original character, and to revel in that belief without the slightest misgiving. Many of our young women have thought fit to cut their hair short, put on blue spectacles, and call themselves Nihilists. By doing this they have been able to persuade themselves, without further trouble, that they have acquired new convictions of their own. Some men have but felt some little qualm of kindness towards their fellow-men, and the fact has been quite enough to persuade them that they stand alone in the van of enlightenment and that no one has such humanitarian feelings as they. Others have but to read an idea of somebody else's, and they can immediately assimilate it and believe that it was a child of their own brain. The "impudence of ignorance," if I may use the expression, is developed to a wonderful extent in such cases;—unlikely as it appears, it is met with at every turn. ... those belonged to the other class—to the "much cleverer" persons, though from head to foot permeated and saturated with the longing to be original. This class, as I have said above, is far less happy. For the "clever commonplace" person, though he may possibly imagine himself a man of genius and originality, none the less has within his heart the deathless worm of suspicion and doubt; and this doubt sometimes brings a clever man to despair. (As a rule, however, nothing tragic happens;—his liver becomes a little damaged in the course of time, nothing more serious. Such men do not give up their aspirations after originality without a severe struggle,—and there have been men who, though good fellows in themselves, and even benefactors to humanity, have sunk to the level of base criminals for the sake of originality)

Even if you never increase your physical or social resilience, seeking out more positive emotions every day alone can add a full decade to your life.

sometimes feel as if I wasn’t supposed to live among people at all. As if I would be happier on a little island somewhere, all alone with my books and some writing material for company.

He was not a scholar – his brain seemed too sluggish or too dreamy to grasp the things demanded of it – but he was never happier than when left alone among books, and would spend hours turning the pages of atlases, novels or tales from history, alive to the alternative versions of himself they seemed to proffer.

God made no mistakes when He created you. You were uniquely designed for success in your purpose. When you align your life with your strengths—those innate qualities you were gifted with—you will tap into a level of grace that empowers you to achieve things you could never accomplish in your strength alone.

I wasn't alone, but I was terribly lonely. Because I knew that I would never be happier than I was then.

The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip has left Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift Untainted back to thine. Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, An equal love may see: The tear that from thine eyelid streams Can weep no change in me. I ask no pledge to make me blest In gazing when alone; Nor one memorial for a breast, Whose thoughts are all thine own. Nor need I write --- to tell the tale My pen were doubly weak: Oh ! what can idle words avail, Unless the heart could speak ? By day or night, in weal or woe, That heart, no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show, And silent ache for thee.

For kids stuck in small towns everywhere who feel like you'll never escape, I hear you. We are all connected. We're all in this together. You are not alone. No matter what happens, never *ever* give up. Happiness is not limited. There's enough for everyone. You can start right now, today, to move toward a happier life. Your life is shaped by your choices. Make ones that will help you get where you want to go. Find your place to belong. It may not be a physical place. At least, not yet. Maybe your place is somewhere you let your imagination take you. Maybe it's your vision of the way your ideal life will be. Eventually, you'll find a real place that feels like home. Your whole world will open up in ways you kept believing were possible. And you'll be so happy you held on long enough to make it there. So let's do this thing. Let's own what makes up unique. Let's refuse to allow haters to stop us from moving forward. Let's turn our dreams into reality. Starting now.

After reading the journal, I was left with the comfort of that essential recurring image of my husband putting out to sea in a boat he had rebuilt, out through the crashing surf to the calm just beyond. Of him following the coastline north, alone, seeking in that experience the joy of small moments remembered from happier days. It made me fiercely proud of him. It showed resolve. It showed bravery. It bound him to me in a more intimate way than we had ever seemed to have while together.

Your mother was the love of my life. Not everyone gets to have that. I did. Yes, I miss her, but I’m happier being alone and missing her than pretending not to miss her while being with someone else. Does that ridiculous statement make sense?” “Yes.” “Good.

Oran is exile and Tetuan is imprisonment. And since I am happier in Tetuan than in Oran, that means I prefer jail in my native land to freedom in exile.

All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.

My mom used to say, ‘If you are unhappier when he is with you than when you are alone, get out of the relationship. If you are happier when he’s with you than when he’s not with you, then you stay in the relationship.

As for us,Etienne was right.Our schools are only a twenty-minute transit ride away.He'll stay with me on the weekends, and we'll visit each other as often as possible during the week. We'll be together.We both got our Point Zero wishes-each other.He said he wished for me every time.He was wishing for me when I entered the tower. "Mmm," I say.He's kissing my neck. "That's it," Rashmi says. "I'm outta here.Enjoy your hormones." Josh and Mer follow her exit,and we're alone.Just the way I like it. "Ha!" Ettiene says. "Just the way I like it." He pulls me onto his lap,and I wrap my legs around his waist.His lips are velvet soft,and we kiss until the streetlamps flicker on outside. Until the opera singer begins her evening routine. "I'm going to miss her," I say. "I'll sing to you." He tucks my stripe behind my ear. "Or I'll take you to the opera.Or I'll fly you back here to visit. Whatever you want.Anything you want." I lace my fingers through his. "I want to stay right here,in this moment." "Isn't that the name of the latest James Ashley bestseller? In This Moment?" "Careful.Someday you'll meet him, and he won't be nearly as amusing in person." Etienne grins. "Oh,so he'll only be mildly amusing? I suppose I can handle mildly amusing." "I'm serious! You have to promise me right now,this instant,that you won't leave me once you meet him.Most people would run." "I'm not most people." I smile. "I know.But you still have to promise." His eyes lock on mine. "Anna,I promise that I will never leave you." My heart pounds in response.And Etienne knows it,because he takes my hand and holds it against his chest,to show me how hard his heart is pounding, too. "And now for yours," he says. I'm still dazed. "My what?" He laughs. "Promise you won't flee once I introduce you to my father.Or, worse, leave me for him." I pause. "Do you think he'll object to me?" "Oh,I'm sure he will." Okay.Not the answer I was looking for. Etienne sees my alarm. "Anna.You know my father dislikes anything that makes me happy.And you make me happier than anyone ever has." He smiles. "Oh,yes. He'll hate you." "So....that's a good thing?" "I don't care what he thinks.Only what you think." He holds me tighter. "Like if you think I need to stop biting my nails." "You've worn your pinkies to nubs," I say cheerfully. "Or if I need to start ironing my bedspread." "I DO NOT IRON MY BEDSPREAD." "You do.And I love it." I blush,and Etienne kisses my warm cheeks. "You know,my mum loves you." "She goes?" "You're the only thing I've talked about all year.She's ecstatic we're together." I'm smiling inside and out. "I can't wait to meet her.

You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, such as i am. Though for myself alone I would not be ambitious in my wish to wish myself much better, yet for you I would be trebled twenty times myself, a thousand times more rich, that only to stand high in your accunt I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, exceed account. But the full sum of me is sum of something, which, to term in gross, is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticed; happy in this, she is not yet so old but she may learn; happier than this, she is not bred so dull but she can learn; happiest of all, is that her gentle spirit commits itself to yours to be idrected as from her lord, her governor, her king. Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours is now converted. But now I was the lord of this fair mansion, master of my servants, queen o'er myself; and even now, but now, this house, these servants, and this same myself are yours, my lord's. I give them.

happy people are firstly aware of the importance of being their own best friends. They are fine with being in their own company, and aren’t lonely when alone. Their most important relationship – with themselves – is intact, guilt-free, undemanding, and a calming experience.

Who even had the right to place singlehood on the list of pathetic stuff in the Encyclopedia of life? I often feel much happier if I am alone, at least until I remember that it’s not very socially acceptable to be alone, single, and lonely. Sometimes I feel like even a harem would be more acceptable than a single person. Because something must be completely wrong with someone if nobody wants them. How stupid! Something is wrong with this person! She’s happy when she’s alone! She’s happy to be by herself. Handle that, if you can.

All men's miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone." — Blaise Pascal

It’s two people who are happier in each other’s company than they are alone.” Now I can hear the tears in her voice too. “Better together than they are apart.

And just like that, one last taste of the local grub was all alone in my mind, whatever had been there before completely gone. I couldn't have been happier, which is how I like to operate.

So next time someone enters your contemplative space and tells you to get happier, say you’re busy attending to “the poignant enormity of life experience.” Bet that will get you some alone time.

did the people who estranged themselves, did they feel free afterward?” “No,” Catherine said with certainty. I waited. There was nothing else. “No…?” I asked, my heart sinking. “Well, if not freer…were they…happier?” Catherine munched on her cracker and shrugged. “Meh,” she said. She must have seen my unhappy expression. “Look,” she explained, “I don’t think it brought anyone joy. It didn’t make people happy to have to do it. It was just necessary. I think you just have to figure out if it’s necessary for you. I can’t tell you if you should do it or shouldn’t. All I can say is that if you do do it, you’re not alone.

The difference in joy respondents felt in urban versus natural settings (especially coastal environments) was greater than the difference they experienced from being alone versus being with friends, and about the same as doing favored activities like singing and sports versus not doing those things. Yet, remarkably, the respondents, like me, were rarely caught outside. Ninety-three percent of the time, they were either indoors or in vehicles.

When we are in a corner with a coffee and a fine each he says: 'Do you know what I feel about you? I think you are very lonely. I know, because for a long time I was lonely myself. I hated people, I didn't want to see anyone. And one day I thought: "No, this isn't the way." And now I go about a lot. I force myself to. I have a lot of friends; I'm never alone. Now I'm much happier.' That sounds pretty simple. I must try it when I get back to London. ...

—I miss you, Daddy. I know you do. I miss you, too, sweetheart, more than you’ll ever know. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I was with you. I wish I could have saved you, Amy. —But you did. You saved me. You were just a little girl, alone in the world. I never should have let them take you. I tried, but not hard enough. That’s the real test, you know. That’s the true measure of a man’s life. I was always too afraid. I hope you can forgive me. A

Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" No, I am not. "You know, if you want to be happier, you have try. You have to put in the effort. Your problem is that you don't try." I do try. I have tried. I have tried for sixteen years.

Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life. Think of it, dream of it, live on that idea. Let the brain, muscles, nerves, every part of your body, be full of that idea and just leave every other idea alone. This is the way to success.”XI

I sometimes feel as if I wasn’t supposed to live among people at all. As if I would be happier on a little island somewhere, all alone with my books and some writing material for company. I could grow my own food and never have to speak to a soul.

I know it cannot, and I don’t fear it any longer, for I’m sure I shall be your Beth still, to love and help you more than ever. You must take my place, Jo, and be everything to Father and Mother when I’m gone. They will turn to you, don’t fail them, and if it’s hard to work alone, remember that I don’t forget you, and that you’ll be happier in doing that than writing splendid books or seeing all the world, for love is the only thing that we can carry with us when we go, and it makes the end so easy.

Overall, on average, happier people earn more money, get higher performance ratings, make better decisions, negotiate sweeter deals, and contribute more to their organizations. Happiness alone accounts for about 10 percent of the variation between employees and job performance.

Religion has clearly performed great services for human civilization. It has contributed much towards the taming of the asocial instincts. But not enough. It has ruled human society for many thousands of years and has had time to show what it can achieve. If it had succeeded in making the majority of mankind happy, in comforting them, in reconciling them to life and in making them into vehicles of civilization, no one would dream of attempting to alter the existing conditions. But what do we see instead? We see that an appallingly large number of people are dissatisfied with civilization and unhappy in it, and feel it as a yoke which must be shaken off; and that these people either do everything in their power to change that civilization, or else go so far in their hostility to it that they will have nothing to do with civilization or with a restriction of instinct. At this point it will be objected against us that this state of affairs is due to the very fact that religion has lost a part of its influence over human masses precisely because of the deplorable effect of the advances of science. We will note this admission and the reason given for it, and we shall make use of it later for our own purposes; but the objection itself has no force. It is doubtful whether men were in general happier at a time when religious doctrines held unrestricted sway; more moral they certainly were not. They have always known how to externalize the precepts of religion and thus to nullify their intentions. The priests, whose duty it was to ensure obedience to religion, met them half-way in this. God's kindness must lay a restraining hand on His justice. One sinned, and then one made a sacrifice or did penance and then one was free to sin once more. Russian introspectiveness has reached the pitch of concluding that sin is indispensable for the enjoyment of all the blessings of divine grace, so that, at bottom, sin is pleasing to God. It is no secret that the priests could only keep the masses submissive to religion by making such large concessions as these to the instinctual nature of man. Thus it was agreed: God alone is strong and good, man is weak and sinful. In every age immorality has found no less support in religion than morality has. If the achievements of religion in respect to man’s happiness, susceptibility to culture and moral control are no better than this, the question cannot but arise whether we are not overrating its necessity for mankind, and whether we do wisely in basing our cultural demands upon it.

My granddaughter once asked me how I managed to live alone for so long far removed from civilization. The truth is I don’t know. But it must have been easier for me than for most people, because I’ve never been particularly sociable; I have few friends and I don’t enjoy parties or festivities. I’m much happier when I’m alone. At

Nothing fills Vera with quite as much joy as watching loved ones eat her food. It’s one of the many things she misses about Jinlong and Tilly. When it was the three of them at home, she’d cook every day and watch as Jinlong and Tilly ate, and food always tasted so much better that way. Living alone, Vera finds that much of the joy of cooking has leached out of her, to the point where she mostly eats plain rice and simple sauteed vegetables for dinner. Why bother cooking elaborate meals for just one person? But now she has so many people to cook for. Her days are filled to bursting and she’s constantly rushing here and there, and she can’t possibly be happier than this.

Just because my job requires me to make fun of myself into a microphone and wear my heart on my sleeve for hire dosn’t mean I can’t be an introvert as well. Believe it or not, I do have a complex inner life just like you, and I enjoy being alone. I need it. And I’ve never been happier than I was when I finally figured this out about myself.

But from where I'm sitting, it's two smart, loving adults who are navigating a curveball in the best way they know how. It's two people who were both a little lost until they ended up on the same path and walked together for a while. It's two people who are happier in each other's company than they are alone. Better together than they are apart.

Ms.Mutou- I was told to write a last will, but… But even if I had possessions that were worth passing on, I have no family to give them to, So I wrote a letter to you, like always.. I never could have imagined how shocked I’d been… When I first saw you at the prison. The truth is, I’d been looking for you. On that day that my brother died and I was left alone, Even you disappeared from the television screens… I looked for you… I looked and looked… But I couldn’t find you… I’d forgotten about it… So when I saw you here at the prison… I thought that perhaps… God truly did exist… Thanks to the Thursday that I spent with you, I knew for the first time how it felt to be happy. It was something I couldn’t obtain living by myself… It felt like I understood why people live their lives mingling with others… I won’t put a brave front… And tell you to forget about me, and live your life without letting your past hold you back… I want you to remember me. Just you-… That there was a little person like me… You told me once that even though there was someone you hated enough to want to kill, you were afraid to do it and stopped. I don’t think that you stopped because you were afraid, but rather that you were brave. If I had also done so… Perhaps I could have said to you the word that I could never say… Words… That I haven’t said once… Not since I was born… Probably… Ever since then… Ever since then… I’ve loved you… Live. Even if it’s only for a day… And please find a way… To be happier than anyone else…

Satisficers report feeling happier with their choices, even when they select an objectively worse option. (I mean, come on. Your friend’s Nespresso machine didn’t even make Wirecutter’s top picks!) That’s because Maximizers constantly second-guess themselves. They suffer doubly: first in the agony leading up to the decision, and again every time they worry they’ve made the wrong one.

When I wasn’t in the barn garden, helping out, sorting seeds or checking hoses I’d spend time alone, usually in the bathroom adjacent to Joel’s room, staring into the shattered mirror as my hand gently caressed my baby bump. More often than not I would cry. Not because my pregnancy upset me, or that my hormones were getting the better of me, but because I missed Joel, my baby’s father. That the baby would grow up without a dad made me anxious. Then again, if he had survived, what irreparable damage would he have suffered and how would his pain translate to his child? Jesus, I was studying myself in the very mirror he’d smashed the night he chose to take his own life. The bump had grown slowly in the last couple of months. With these limited resources, I didn’t have the privilege of eating whatever I craved. Had that been the case, I was sure I would have been bigger by now. Still, I tried to eat as well and as often as I could and the size of my belly had proven that my attempts at proper nutrition were at least growing something in there. Nothing made me happier than feeling my baby move. It was a constant source of relief for me. In our present circumstances, with no vitamins and barely any meat products save the recent stash of jerky Earl had found in an abandoned trailer, my diet consisted of berries, lettuce, and canned beans for the most part. Feeling the baby move inside me was an experience I often enjoyed alone. I would think of Joel then as well. Imagining his hand on my belly, with mine guiding his to the kicks and punches.

Some things are worth that kind of fight, Myra, and you are worth every fight.” “Are you sure?” My voice warbles dangerously close to sobs. He tosses his hat aside and gathers my fingers in both of his hands. “You make me happier being me than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t tell you how freeing it is to be seen.” He pauses, offering me a tentative smile. “I can’t promise you I won’t mess up. I can’t promise that there won’t be hard times, times where the battle might be too much to bear. There will be many anxious moments to come, because that’s part of who I am and the reality of what going against my parents will be like, but I’m willing to take the harder road if that means I get to keep you in my life.” His voice drops to a bear whisper. “I’ll be honest, there are so many unknowns about the future I’m choosing here that I can’t bank on, and that terrifies the hell out of me. But there is one thing I can promise you.” He brings my hands up to his mouth and brushes his lips along my fingertips one by one. “You will never have to face anything alone again. I will do whatever it takes to be the person you can count on when everyone and everything else fails you.

I always imagined it was going to be a huge ordeal, but it was such a subtle transition away from the abuse. One day I started talking to them about an idea I had, they looked uninterested as usual, and told me to leave them alone. That was the one... far from the worst moment, but that was the final one... I decided to give them exactly what they asked for. It was over. I've never been happier.

Be honest with yourself. You were at your lowest and broken down. You were unsure and lost hope. You were hiding your fears until you showed them on your sleeve. You felt like everything and everyone was the hammer and you were the nail as they were beating down on you, and it was never-ending. Their empty threats had you scared and you were always running because your weakness was exposed. You were their prey. You didn’t know who to believe because of their mixed signals. You might not see it now, but you are stronger than you can ever imagine. You cannot become comfortable in your pain. You have to let the pain that you feel turn you into a rose without thorns. There are sixteen pieces on the chessboard. The king is the most important piece, but the difference is that the queen is the most powerful piece! You are a queen, you can maneuver around your opponents; they do not have the power over your life, your mind or soul. You might think you’ve been a prisoner, but that is your past’. Look in the now and work your way to how you want your future to be. Exercise your thoughts into a pattern of letting go, and think positively about more of what you want than what you do not want. Queen! You are a queen! As a matter of fact, you are the queen! Act as if you know it! You are powerful, determined, strong, and you can make the biggest and most extravagant move and put it into action. Lights, camera, strike a pose and own it! It is yours to own! Yes, you loved and loved so much. You also lost as well, but you lost hurt, pain, agony, and confusion. You’ve lost interest in wanting to know answers to unanswered questions. You’ve lost the willingness to give a shit about what others think. You’ve surrendered to being fine, that you cannot change the things you have no control over. You’ve lost a lot, but you’ve gained closure. You are now balanced, centered, focused, and filled with peace surrounding you in your heart, mind, body, and soul. Your pride was hurt, but you would rather walk alone and be more willing to give and learn more about the queen you are. You lost yourself in the process, but the more you learn about the new you, the more you will be so much in love with yourself. The more you learn about the new you, the more you will know your worth. The more you learn about the new you, the happier you are going to be, and this time around you will be smiling inside and out! The dots are now connecting. You feel alive! You know now that all is not lost. Now that you’ve cut the cord it is time to give your heart a second chance at loving yourself. Silence your mind. Take a deep breath and close your eyes. As you open your eyes, look at your reflection in the mirror. Aren’t you beautiful, Queen? Embrace who you are. Smile, laugh, welcome the new you and say, “My world is just now beginning.

One splendid summer afternoon Kaspar realized he had never been happier in his life or both of his lives, past and present. Not fireworks-orgasms-and-champagne happy, but on waking in the morning he was glad almost every single day to be exactly where he was. He had never before experienced the feeling of genuine, constant well-being and it was a true revelation. The longer the satisfaction continued, the less he thought about his previous life as a mechanic and the extraordinary things he’d once seen and been able to do. Misery may love company but happiness is content to be alone. The funny irony of his existence now was, as long as he was this happy and content with his lot, Kaspar didn’t need to make much of an effort to “walk away” from his mechanic’s life because now he was sated with this one both in mind and heart.

And in that tenderness I even asked myself why I should save her from the Brute, or warn her against the Brute, or meddle with the matter at all. ‘She is happy,’ said my heart. ‘Whether it’s madness or a god or a monster, or whatever it is, she is happy. You have seen that yourself. She is ten times happier, there in the Mountain, than you could ever make her. Leave her alone. Don’t spoil it. Don’t mar what you’ve learnt you can’t make.

This was our ritual as we waited for our lives to truly begin and I think now that maybe true sweetness can only happen in limbo. I don't know why. Is it because we are so unsure, so tentative and waiting? Like it needs that much room, that much space to expand. The not knowing anything really, the hoping, the aching transience: This is not real, not really, and so we let it alone, let it unfold lightly. Those times that can fly...While we waited...to do the real work of living. She also confessed that in an odd way she was happier here than she'd ever been. Even with all the loss. Happier "being" whatever that was. Than "waiting.

have not written has scarcely been my fault, but my misfortune rather, for I have been quite unstrung and overcome by agitation and anxiety, and thought that I should be able to tell you at last of being calmer and happier, but it was all in vain. I do not leave England, my dear friend. It is decided that I remain on in my prison. It was my full intention to go. I considered it to be a clear duty, and I made up my mind to perform it, let the circumstances be ever so painfully like obstacles; but when the moment came it appeared impossible for me to set out alone, and also impossible to take my brother and sister with me without involving them in difficulties and displeasure.

What kind of regrets? For me, very few books cause tears, much less require a handkerchief, but Bronnie Ware’s 2012 book The Top Five Regrets of the Dying did both. Ware spent many years caring for those facing their own mortality. When she questioned the dying about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, Bronnie found that common themes surfaced again and again. The five most common were these: I wish that I’d let myself be happier—too late they realized happiness is a choice; I wish I’d stayed in touch with my friends—too often they failed to give them the time and effort they deserved; I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings—too frequently shut mouths and shuttered feelings weighed too heavy to handle; I wish I hadn’t worked so hard—too much time spent making a living over building a life caused too much remorse. As tough as these were, one stood out above them all. The most common regret was this: I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself not the life others expected of me. Half-filled dreams and unfulfilled hopes: this was the number-one regret expressed by the dying. As Ware put it, “Most people had not honored even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.” Bronnie Ware’s observations aren’t hers alone. At the conclusion of their exhaustive research, Gilovich and Medvec in 1994 wrote, “When people look back on their lives, it is the things they have not done that generate the greatest regret.... People’s actions may be troublesome initially; it is their inactions that plague them most with long-term feelings of regret.” Honoring our hopes and pursuing productive lives through faith in our purpose and priorities is the message from our elders. From the wisest position they’ll ever have comes their clearest message. No regrets. So make sure every day you do what matters most. When you know what matters most, everything makes sense. When you don’t know what matters most, anything makes sense. The best lives aren’t led this way.

Nico,’ I said at last, ‘shouldn’t you be sitting at the Hades table?’ He shrugged. ‘Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It’s a mood disorder. I can’t control it. That’s what I told Chiron.’ ‘And is it true?’ I asked. Nico smiled thinly. ‘I have a note from my doctor.’ Will raised his hand. ‘I’m his doctor.’ ‘Chiron decided it wasn’t worth arguing about,’ Nico said. ‘As long as I sit at a table with other people, like … oh, these guys for instance … the zombies stay away. Everybody’s happier.’ Will nodded serenely. ‘It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.’ ‘Of course not,’ Nico agreed.

Take time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord; Abide in Him always, and feed on His Word. Make friends of God’s children; help those who are weak, Forgetting in nothing His blessing to seek. Take time to be holy, the world rushes on; Spend much time in secret with Jesus alone. By looking to Jesus, like Him thou shalt be; Thy friends in thy conduct His likeness shall see. Take time to be holy, let Him be thy guide; And run not before Him whatever betide. In joy or in sorrow still follow thy Lord, And, looking to Jesus, still trust in His Word. Take time to be holy, be calm in thy soul; Each thought and each motive beneath His control. Thus led by His Spirit to fountains of love, Thou soon shalt be fitted for service above. William D. Longstaff

But influential business leaders were eager proponents of numbers-driven merit pay for teachers. Ross Perot, for example, pushed Dallas to implement a plan to use test scores alone to evaluate teachers and distribute pay increases. So it was ironic that private industry had, by the 1980s, mostly turned away from efforts to pay white-collar workers according to strict productivity measures, finding that such formal evaluation programs were too expensive and time-consuming to create and implement. Research showed that companies with merit pay schemes did not perform better financially than did organizations without it, nor were their employees happier. Instead, management gurus recommended that workers be judged primarily by the holistic standards of individual supervisors.

When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but a strange lovely blue over and beneath and all about her. The lady and the beautiful room had vanished from her sight, and she seemed utterly alone. But instead of being afraid, she felt more than happy - perfectly blissful. And from somewhere came the voice of the lady, singing a strange sweet song, of which she could distinguish every word; but of the sense she had only a feeling - no understanding. Nor could she remember a single line after it was gone. It vanished, like the poetry in a dream, as fast as it came. In after years, however, she would sometimes fancy that snatches of melody suddenly rising in her brain must be little phrases and fragments of the air of that song; and the very fancy would make her happier, and abler to do her duty.

As I had grown accustomed to my expectations, I had insensibly begun to notice their effect upon myself and those around me. Their influence on my own character I disguised from my recognition as much as possible, but I knew very well that it was not all good. I lived in a state of chronic uneasiness respecting my behaviour of Joe. My conscience was not by any means comfortable about Biddy. When I woke up in the night - like Camilla - I used to think, with a weariness on my spirits that I should have been happier and better if I had never seen Miss Havisham's face, and had risen to manhood content to be partners with Joe in the honest old forge. Many a time of an evening, when I sat alone looking at the fire, I thought, after all, there was no fire like the forge fire and the kitchen fire at home.

It is not good for man to be kept perforce at all times in the presence of his species. A world from which solitude is extirpated is a very poor ideal. Solitude, in the sense of being often alone, is essential to any depth of meditation or of character; and solitude in the presence of natural beauty and grandeur, is the cradle of thoughts and aspirations which are not only good for the individual, but which society could ill do without. Nor is there much satisfaction in contemplating the world with nothing left to the spontaneous activity of nature...scarcely a place left where a wild shrub or flower could grow without being eradicated as a weed in the same of improved agriculture. If the earth must lose that great portion of its pleasantness which it owes to things that the unlimited increase of wealth and population would extirpate from it, for the mere support of a larger, but not a better or happier population, I sincerely hope, for the sake of posterity, that they will be content to be stationary...

Each one of us carries in our heart a horrible religious fanatic. We would all like to be able to do something so spectacular that we could brag, “Look what I’ve done! With all my prayers and good works, I’ve done enough for God today that I can feel at peace.” This happens to me too after I have accomplished something in my ministry. I’m much happier than if I hadn’t done it. Being happy isn’t wrong in itself. But this joy is impure because it isn’t based on faith. It’s the kind of happiness that can make your conscience confused. Consciences are delicate. We need to guard them against the sin of arrogance. So we can’t be overconfident. We who confess Christ should always walk in fear and grow in faith. We should realize that we all carry in our hearts a horrible religious fanatic, who will destroy our faith with foolish delusions of good works. The Holy Spirit provides us with a way to counter this godless delusion. We need to hold tightly to what we have received through the grace of God. God’s approval doesn’t come to us by what we do. Rather, it comes through the holiness of Christ, who suffered for us and rose again from the dead. March 1

Nowadays, whether we like it or not, we are stuck with one form or another of advanced technology and we have got to make it work safely and efficiently: this involves, among other things, the intelligent application of structural theory. However, man does not live by safety and efficiency alone, and we have to face the fact that, visually, the world is becoming an increasingly depressing place. It is not, perhaps, so much the occurrence of what might be described as 'active ugliness' as the prevalence of the dull and the commonplace. Far too seldom is the heart rejoiced or does one feel any better or happier for looking at the works of modern man. Yet most of the artefacts of the eighteenth century, even quite humble and trivial ones, seem to many of us to be at least pleasing and sometimes incomparably beautiful. To that extent people—all people—in the eighteenth century lived richer lives than most of us do today. This is reflected in the prices we pay nowadays for period houses and antiques. A society which was more creative and self-confident would not feel quite so strong a nostalgia for its great-grandfathers' buildings and household looks.

Long ago, there was a servant who served a bad tempered and impatient master. It did not matter how he tried, he was always blamed and beaten by this master. However, it was the strange truth that the servant was always happy, and his master was always sad and depressed. One day, there was a kind man who could not understand this phenomenon, and finally he decided to ask this servant why he was always happy even though he was treated so badly. The servant replied: “Everyone has one day of life each day; half of the day is spent awake and the other half is spent sleeping. Although in the daytime, I am a servant and my master treats me badly, in the nighttime, I always dream that I am a king and there are thousands of servants serving me luxuriously. Look at my master: In the daytime, he is mad, depressed, greedy, and unhappy. In the nighttime, he has nightmares and cannot even have one night of nice rest. I really feel sorry for my master. Comparing me to him, I am surely happier than he is.” Friends, what do you think about this story? You are the only one responsible for your happiness. If you are not satisfied and always complain about what you have obtained, you will be on the course of forever-unhappiness. It is said in the West: “If you smile, the whole world smiles with you, but if you cry, you cry alone.” What an accurate saying!

She knew how to play him so very well. He slipped his hand around hers. "Friends," he repeated roughly. Her smile was bright enough to light up the room-and make him see stars. "Excellent! I'm so pleased. And now I really should go. I don't want to keep your family waiting." His family. She was going out with his family. His mother and sister, who would no doubt think her absolutely perfect. Perfect for Archer, who his mother was determined to see married, now that she had given up all hopes for Grey. Or perhaps they'd want her for Trystan, although he was still living the life of an adventurous young man. "Have fun," he encouraged with all the false enthusiasm he could muster. She flashed a quick grin at him over her shoulder as she made for the door. "I'm sure I will. Your brother will see to that." As far as parting shots went, it wasn't bad. By no means mortal, but deep enough to wound never the less. Alone once more, Grey returned to his chair and pulled the copy of Voluptuous out from underneath the cushion of the other. He stared at it for a moment, contemplating finishing the article on pleasing a woman orally. And then, with a snarl, he flung the pages into the fire, watching ash and embers fly up in the assault. The paper caught quickly, giving off a sudden bloom of heat. Women, he thought as he watched the magazine's mocking text blacken and char. He would be much happier in his misery without them.

The painting did not exist until I made it,' Karabekian went on. 'Now that it does exist, nothing would make me happier than to have it reproduced again and again, and vastly improved upon, by all the five-year-olds in town. I would love for your children to find pleasantly and playfully what it took me many angry years to find. 'I now give you my world of honor,' he went on, 'that the picture your city owns shows everything about life which truly matters, with nothing left out. It is a picture of the awareness of every animal. It is the immaterial core of every animal - the 'I am' to which all messages are sent. It is all that is alive in any of us - in a mouse, in a deer, in a cocktail waitress. It is unwavering and pure, no matter what preposterous adventure may befall us. A sacred picture of Saint Anthony alone is one vertical, unwavering band of light. If a cockroach were near him, or a cocktail waitress, the picture would show two such bands of light. Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in any of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery. 'I have just heard from this cocktail waitress here, this vertical band of light, a story about her husband and an idiot who was about to be executed at Sheperdstown. Very well - let a five-year-old strip away the idiocy, the bars, the waiting electric chair, the uniform of the guard, the gun of the guard, the bones and meat of the guard. What is that perfect picture which any five-year-old can paint? Two unwavering bands of light.

This was our ritual as we waited for our lives to truly begin and I think now that maybe true sweetness can only happen in limbo. I son'r know why. I it because we are so unsure, so tentative and waiting? Like it needs that much room, that much space to expand. The not knowing anything really, the hoping, the aching transience: This is not real, not really, and so we let it alone, let it unfold lightly. Those times that can fly...While we waited...to do the real work of living. She also confessed that in an odd way she was happier here than she'd ever been. Even with all the loss. Happier being whatever that was. Than waiting.

Did Blake feel this vacant when he was on top? Or was looking up at the mountain a lot worse after hitting ground? It had to be. Then again, we’d both seemed happier in the struggle, at least in the beginning. There was so much to look forward to, so many milestones to reach. Maybe we were both happier with the idea, the lie that if we got to a certain place, that place is where we would find it, whatever it is. I arrived alone, and there is nothing here

As she sat there, her feeling of loneliness increased. And this was strange, because she had always been solitary, and did not usually feel lonely when alone. But she watched Gina with Adam and- -and she realized that she wasn't happy being solitary anymore. But the person she was happiest with wasn't a person. It was Periapt. Being with him was like being with the perfect companion. He was clever. He was kind, at least to her- though he had been scathing with the fox, and once or twice with Cleo, whom he regarded as being rather too full of herself. They found the same kinds of things funny, they enjoyed the same sorts of books, and it was getting so that they could finish each other's sentences. She was never happier than when she was curled up with him, having a lively discussion over some obscure point in a book. In fact, simply being with him made her happy- happy in a way that no human male had ever made her feel. Maybe it was simply that he didn't take long, doubtful glances at her oculars, or act polite while all the time he was actually bored. That realization made her feel very odd indeed. And she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Outside influences can only make me happiER or happiEST but I, alone control my HAPPINESS!

I believe I told you I love you.” “Aye, you did, at that. Although you could have sounded a wee bit happier about it.” “Should I say it again?” “Aye, I’d like to hear it.” “Very well.” Her lips twitched, but she didn’t release the sheet. “I love you, Ewan Alexander Ardmore Macrae. I must be as mad as my father, but you’ve carved a place in my heart that belongs to you alone.” He nodded with satisfaction. “That’s better.” She cast him a sidelong glance. Dear Lord, she’d caught herself an enviable specimen of a man, even if he was far too inclined to tease. “Your turn, Lord Lyle.” He heaved a theatrical sigh. “You won’t let me out of this, will you?” “No.” His hand crept to the edge of the sheet, until she slapped it away. “I’m gey eager to see what’s under there.” “You know what you have to do first. Think of this as blackmail.” “Och, you’ll make a braw countess, Charlotte Warren.” “So?” His smile faded, and he kissed her with a depth of emotion that caught her by surprise. She shivered under the wordless worship of his lips. There was passion—as he’d said, passion was integral to their love—but there was also tenderness, and care, and something that felt like reverence. By the time he raised his head, she was boneless with longing and radiant with happiness. After that kiss, he didn’t have to say the words. She knew he loved her. Dazzled

Often, you have difficulties not because you’re doing something wrong but because you’re doing something right. It’s because you are making a difference. It’s because you are taking new ground for your family. It’s because you are a threat to the enemy. He would leave you alone if you weren’t advancing the kingdom. He wouldn’t bother you if he didn’t know God had something amazing planned for you in your future. That’s why he is trying to make you discouraged and bitter and blaming God, to keep you from the new levels that God has in store for you. Darkness never likes the light, but don’t worry about it. Light will always overtake the darkness. Just keep shining. Keep smiling. Hold on to your happiness and your joy. Keep treating people well even though they mistreat you. Do the right thing even though the wrong things happen to you again and again. Your troubles are a sure sign that God has something amazing planned in your future. Your happiness will be restored, in abundance. The enemy will not roll out the red carpet and allow you to fulfill your destiny unopposed. He will throw out unexpected challenges, unexpected trouble, and unexpected difficulties. But know this: The God we serve has unexpected favor, unexpected healing, unexpected breakthroughs, and unexpected turnarounds.

We don’t start our lives in a state of independence and then face the challenge of creating some sort of relationship or bond with others. But when we are supposed to argue for the importance of a society we almost always start here: with an autonomous individual, and then we enumerate the reasons why he should create dependencies and relationships. – It’ll be easier to produce food. – It’ll be easier to defend ourselves against wild animals. – It will make him happier. – He can get help when he is sick. – He will live longer. There are many advantages to having other people around. As if we had ever had any other choice. The process is actually the opposite. We are born into other people’s demands and expectations. To be a child is to be almost completely dependent on others. We have never known anything else. Totally at the mercy of their hopes, demands, love, neuroses, traumas, disappointments and unrealized lives. To take care of a child is in a way to constantly be meeting the needs of another, and from this intimacy, the child must learn, step by step, to become more independent. As the feminist theorist Virginia Held has pointed out: the natural human state is to be enveloped by our dependency on others. The challenge is to break out of this and find one’s own identity. Carve out more and more space for one’s self. From within a context of other people, relationships and the world they bring, you set out to find what’s you. Those who take care of the child must themselves be able to support a separate identity. Not be swallowed by constant engagement or to be enticed into finding all of their value by being so completely needed by someone else. Managing to do this and to keep the relationships of mutual dependency healthy is the challenge that shapes most lives and societies. Every day and every hour. So many of the mental and emotional wounds that characterize our lives are created here. And perhaps it’s not strange that we are drawn to fantasies about things being different. Fantasies about being alone. Floating in an empty space with just an umbilical cord connecting us to our surroundings. That economic man doesn’t match up to reality is one thing. We’ve known that for years. What’s interesting is that we so dearly want him to align with reality. Apparently we want to be like him. We want his selfsufficiency, his reason and the predictable universe that he inhabits. Most of all, we seem to be prepared to pay a high price for it.

Oh, when shall men learn, at last, that if the Great Religion inculcates so rigidly the necessity of FAITH, it is not alone that FAITH leads to the world to be; but that without faith there is no excellence in this, — faith in something wiser, happier, diviner, than we see on earth! — the artist calls it the Ideal, — the priest, Faith. The Ideal and Faith are one and the same. Return, O wanderer, return! Feel what beauty and holiness dwell in the Customary and the Old. Back to thy gateway glide, thou Horror! and calm, on the childlike heart, smile again, O azure Heaven, with thy night and thy morning star but as one, though under its double name of Memory and Hope!

Contentment seems almost a happiness happier than happy because it's happy without reason. I for one am a shamefully happy person - a person so happy that he doesn't long for company when he doesn't have it.

Imagine yourself in a situation where you have recently been overly anxious. Now take a minute and imagine yourself back in that situation but this time in a calm frame of mind. See yourself calm and in control, feel yourself relaxed and at ease. Would you be happier? Would you do anything differently in that situation if you didn’t have anxiety? Take your time and use all of your senses to imagine this scenario. How much better will your life be when you can approach life in this calm way? 2. Imagine the things you would do if you didn’t have anxiety or panic attacks. Take a while to think about this, because this will be your motivation. It doesn’t have to be anything monumental. It could just be walking in the park or getting your groceries. Maybe going to the movies, hanging out with your friends, travelling to the city you’ve always dreamed of. My motivation was just to feel safe being alone and not having my phone with me – as simple as that. It can really help if you know why you are doing this and why you want to get better.

Perhaps the compulsion to fill every inch of space was because it made him feel less alone, or because every single object was imbued with memories of happier times, and the objects had proven more reliable than the people.

You’ve interviewed sixty people who are estranged from their parents,” I stammered. “I don’t know if you have studies on it, but, um, in your experience—did the people who estranged themselves, did they feel free afterward?” “No,” Catherine said with certainty. I waited. There was nothing else. “No . . . ?” I asked, my heart sinking. “Well, if not freer . . . were they . . . happier?” Catherine munched on her cracker and shrugged. “Meh,” she said. She must have seen my unhappy expression. “Look,” she explained, “I don’t think it brought anyone joy. It didn’t make people happy to have to do it. It was just necessary. I think you just have to figure out if it’s necessary for you. I can’t tell you if you should do it or shouldn’t. All I can say is that if you do do it, you’re not alone.

Talk Out Loud Choose a time when you’re alone at home. Sit on a chair and imagine the deceased is sitting opposite you. Speak openly and freely about everything that has happened. The incident, the cause of your pain, the reason you can’t seem to forgive, and how it affected your relationship with that person. When you talk it out loud, you’re releasing the energy of anger, pain, and frustration into the universe. Now that the person has passed away, you don’t need to hold onto the pain. I understand that certain situations require a great deal of bravery to forgive. You might have gone through physical or sexual abuse, which, in no means, is easy to get over. But remember that holding on to abuse is giving more power to the offender. Suffering only empowers the abuser. Let out all your frustration to take your power back and move on to a beautiful and happier life.

And that was the last time I went back to my home church, the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was out in the world, pursuing my dream, speaking my truth, using my talents, summoning the courage to share my fears and insecurities in front of strangers to entertain them and leave them happier and feeling less alone, and this guy thought I had fallen from grace because I occasionally said dirty words? Well, fuck that. I never went back.

There was never friction between them, despite the gaping hole that was his father, but Mary Alice’s allowance of space, the gift of time left alone to get to know himself, created an unintended rift. He’d never felt this happy before, far away from his mother, and decided it could only mean that even more distance would do nothing but make him happier. While floating on their backs in the oppressive summer heat, he and Kenny made plans to move off together, somewhere far away from Billington. The old place quickly became a portal to their

When a cat comes home for the first time, it can be a very stressful time. They usually come from a place they know well and are suddenly thrown into a world that smells strange, looks huge and can be very scary. For your cat's first few days in a new home, it's best to keep things simple in the beginning. Cat comfort at home In general, it is important to offer your cat the following comforts so that it feels much happier and safer in its own home: Access to a garden – This comes in various forms, but it is important that your cat has control over it. Cat flaps are ideal in this situation and can greatly improve their behavior so they don't feel trapped when they really want to be in their own territory. The territory should extend beyond the walls of your home and may even extend into several neighboring gardens. Let the cat decide if and how much it wants to go outside to create a positive environment for everyone (FIV+ cats only stay indoors, but you can do a lot to keep them busy indoors, or give them a fully fenced yard). The spaces in their home environment where they can retreat and be left alone. These areas can be hiding places under tables, in cozy cat beds and even in elevated places.

In the early morning as dawn was just beginning to streak through the cabin windows, Jack was stirred awake by the soft sound of slightly off-key humming. He found Mel nestled into the crook of his arm, her breath tickling his chest. She was purring, humming, her lips moving slightly, as though singing. It might’ve troubled him if her expression had been sad or disturbed. But she was smiling. She snuggled closer, throwing a leg over his. And this sleepy little music, contented, drifted out of her. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d spent the entire night in bed with a woman. And already, he couldn’t imagine waking up alone. He pulled her closer knowing he’d never been happier in his life.

Piers Morgan Piers Morgan is a British journalist best known for his editorial work for the Daily Mirror from 1995 through 2004. He is also a successful author and television personality whose recent credits include a recurring role as a judge on NBC’s America’s Got Talent. A controversial member of the tabloid press during Diana’s lifetime, Piers Morgan established a uniquely close relationship with the Princess during the 1990s. I mentioned I’d been in contact with her mother. “Oh crikey, that sounds dangerous!” “She’s a feisty woman, isn’t she?” William giggled. “Granny’s great fun after a few gin and tonics.” “Sh, William,” Diana said, giggling too. “My mother’s been a tremendous source of support to me. She never talks publicly; she’s just there for me.” “And what about William’s other granny?” “I have enormous respect for the Queen; she has been so supportive, you know. People don’t see that side of her, but I do all the time. She’s an amazing person.” “Has she been good over the divorce?” “Yes, very. I just want it over now so I can get on with my life. I’m worried about the attacks I will get afterward.” “What attacks?” “I just worry that people will try and knock me down once I am out on my own.” This seemed unduly paranoid. People adored her. I asked William how he was enjoying Eton. “Oh, it’s great, thanks.” “Do you think the press bother you much?” “Not the British press, actually. Though the European media can be quite annoying. They sit on the riverbank watching me rowing with their cameras, waiting for me to fall in! There are photographers everywhere if I go out. Normally loads of Japanese tourists taking pictures. All saying “Where’s Prince William?’ when I’m standing right next to them.” “How are the other boys with you?” “Very nice. Though a boy was expelled this week for taking ecstasy and snuff. Drugs are everywhere, and I think they’re stupid. I never get tempted.” “Does matron take any?” laughed Diana. “No, Mummy, it gives her hallucinations.” “What, like imagining you’re going to be king?” I said. They both giggled again. “Is it true you’ve got Pamela Anderson posters on your bedroom wall?” “No! And not Cindy Crawford, either. They did both come to tea at the palace, though, and were very nice.” William had been photographed the previous week at a party at the Hammersmith Palais, where he was mobbed by young girls. I asked him if he’d had fun. “Everyone in the press said I was snogging these girls, but I wasn’t,” he insisted. Diana laughed. “One said you stuck your tongue down her throat, William. Did you?” “No, I did not. Stop it, Mummy, please. It’s embarrassing.” He’d gone puce. It was a very funny exchange, with a flushed William finally insisting: “I won’t go to any more public parties; it was crazy. People wouldn’t leave me alone.” Diana laughed again. “All the girls love a nice prince.” I turned to more serious matters. “Do you think Charles will become king one day?” “I think he thinks he will,” replied Diana, “but I think he would be happier living in Tuscany or Provence, to be honest.” “And how are you these days--someone told me you’ve stopped seeing therapists?” “I have, yes. I stopped when I realized they needed more therapy than I did. I feel stronger now, but I am under so much pressure all the time. People don’t know what it’s like to be in the public eye, they really don’t.

Do you have any idea how much I love you?” “I do,” she said, smiling. “Well, I’d give my life for you, that’s how much. I’ve never been happier than these past few weeks. But I was just telling Matt—I’d give it all up and live alone and miserable and jealous till the end of time if I could get him back. He was the most amazing man, the most incredible friend. It would probably kill me, but I’d give this up if it meant he could live.” Vanni put a hand along his cheek. “He knows that already, Paul. He always knew that.” “You have to be real sad sometimes, honey. Even now. You don’t ever have to hide that from me. I’ll hold you through the tears now, just like I did before—and I won’t feel cheated. Not by a long shot.” “Paul, I wouldn’t hide anything from you,” she said sweetly. “Not long after Matt and I met, I lost my mom—and she was the best friend I ever had. And then I lost my husband to a war. Do you have any idea what a gift I have in you? It was like being rescued. I didn’t know I could feel like this. I thought every day would hurt forever. It’s probably not really stronger than what I felt for Matt, but coming after all that loss and pain, it sure feels like a miracle to me. Oh—I’ll always miss him, too. I can’t help that. But I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I’m not giving you up.” “I just wish there was a way I could know—I wish I knew he was okay with this—you and me.” “Remember, I told you,” she said, smiling. “I ran it by him already. A few times. Before you ever let me know how you felt.” “I wish I could know he forgives me for—for wanting you all those years you belonged to him…” She laughed softly, sweetly. “I think you’re being silly now. You showed him such incredible respect, never letting anyone know. Paul, there’s nothing to forgive.” “The night Mattie came, I was out here talking to him. Jack came and got me—he said Matt had moved on. He said we each have our destiny and Matt’s took him somewhere else.” “Yeah—wherever he is, he’s tearing the place up, making people laugh, feel good. Paul, this would make Matt happy. You know how much you love him? He loved you that much or more. I can’t think of anyone he’d rather have raise his son.” “I’ll do the best I can with that, honey. I’d sure like to make Matt proud. I’ll try to be as good a husband as Matt was….” She shook her head and smiled at him. “You’re not going to have to try. As far as I can tell, you’re a natural.” *

It is not good for man to be kept perforce at all times in the presence of his species. A world from which solitude is extirpated is a very poor ideal. Solitude, in the sense of being often alone, is essential to any depth of meditation or of character; and solitude in the presence of natural beauty and grandeur, is the cradle of thoughts and aspirations which are not only good for the individual, but which society could ill do without. Nor is there much satisfaction in contemplating the world with nothing left to the spontaneous activity of nature; with every rood of land brought into cultivation, which is capable of growing food for human beings; every flowery waste or natural pasture ploughed up, all quadrupeds or birds which are not domesticated for man's use exterminated as his rivals for food, every hedgerow or superfluous tree rooted out, and scarcely a place left where a wild shrub or flower could grow without being eradicated as a weed in the name of improved agriculture. If the earth must lose that great portion of its pleasantness which it owes to things that the unlimited increase of wealth and population would extirpate from it, for the mere purpose of enabling it to support a larger, but not a better or a happier population, I sincerely hope, for the sake of posterity, that they will be content to be stationary, long before necessity compels them to it.

My Everest story would be incomplete if I didn’t give final credit to the Sherpas who had risked their lives alongside us every day. Pasang and Ang-Sering still climb together as best friends, under the direction of their Sirdar boss--Kami. The Khumba Icefall specialist, Nima, still carries out his brave task in the jumbled ice maze at the foot of the mountain: repairing and fixing the route through. Babu Chiri, who so bravely helped Mick when he ran out of oxygen under the South Summit, was tragically killed in a crevasse in the Western Cwm several years later. He was a Sherpa of many years’ Everest experience, and was truly one of the mountain’s greats. It was a huge loss to the mountaineering fraternity. But if you play the odds long enough you will eventually lose. That is the harsh reality of high-altitude mountaineering. You can’t keep on top of the world forever. Geoffrey returned to the army, and Neil to his business. His toes never regained their feeling, but he avoided having them amputated. But as they say, Everest always charges some sort of a price, and in his own words--he got lucky. As for Mick, he describes his time on Everest well: “In the three months I was away, I was both happier than ever before, and more scared than I ever hope to be again.” Ha. That’s also high-altitude mountaineering for you. Thengba, my friend, with whom I spent so much time alone at camp two, was finally given a hearing aid by Henry. Now, for the first time, he can hear properly. Despite our different worlds, we shared a common bond with these wonderful Sherpa men--a friendship that was forged by an extraordinary mountain. Once, when the climber Julius Kugy was asked what sort of person a mountaineer should be, he replied: “Truthful, distinguished, and modest.” All these Sherpas epitomize this. I made the top with them, and because of their help, I owe them more than I can say. The great Everest writer Walt Unsworth, in his book Everest: The Mountaineering History, gives a vivid description of the characters of the men and women who pit their all on the mountain. I think it is bang on the money: But there are men for whom the unattainable has a special attraction. Usually they are not experts: their ambitions and fantasies are strong enough to brush aside the doubts which more cautious men might have. Determination and faith are their strongest weapons. At best such men are regarded as eccentric; at worst, mad… Three things they all had in common: faith in themselves, great determination, and endurance. If I had to sum up what happened on that journey for me, from the hospital bed to the summit of the world, I tend to think of it as a stumbling journey. Of losing my confidence and my strength--then refinding it. Of seeing my hope and my faith slip away--and then having them rekindled. Ultimately, if I had to pass on one message to my children it would be this: Fortune favors the brave. Most of the time.

nine-tenths of our happiness depend on health alone […] a healthy beggar is happier than an ailing king,

Two Homeless People In Love Are Happier Than A lonely Man Living Alone In His Castle

Every time I refused to believe in and act on the American Dream, I was punished severely. Because everyone else has invested so much of their money and lives in this dream that it freaks them out when other people deviate—let alone take a detour, or be happier.

So how do you spend these long evenings, Ada?” He smiled. “Since you’re not much for the piano and such.” “When I traveled abroad, I kept journals of the places we visited and the interesting people we met. Sometimes I reread them in the evenings while Lillian sleeps. They remind me of happier times.” “I’ve always had a hankering to see the world, but somehow I think it’s a trip better shared than undertaken alone.” “My aunt chaperoned me, and I enjoyed it. Except for the times she introduced me to certain young men of her acquaintance—sons of her old friends in London.” He grinned. “Tried to marry you off, did she?” Ada blushed. “Something like that.” In the flickering lamplight, his gaze sought hers. “I’m pleased that she didn’t succeed.

But we are moaning about the very lives that we have created for ourselves...We were free to go and retire alone in Goa and live on the beach for the rest of our lives, childless and free. But we chose not to do that. And then we complained.

I guess I feel like I’ve been putting up this big front to the world like I don’t need anybody or anything. Like I’m happier by myself. I don’t like being alone any better than anybody else does. I just got confused because it was better than being with most of the people I’ve known.

He is amazed that he longed so deeply for the young girl when she was not there, that he was really happier sitting alone and thinking about her than when she was there. He needed her not for loving her ... yes, sometimes it was as though her presence could be disturbing for him. He also wrote to her rather than spoke. He had lived far too inwardly, far too spiritually, for this sensual nearness not to be as though too much.

In his Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, Bentham’s contemporary Adam Smith warned that it was a deception to believe that wealth and comfort alone would bring happiness. But this didn’t stop his followers or the governments they advised from increasingly relying on the crude measures of income when measuring human progress over the next two centuries. As long as economic numbers grew, economists insisted that life was getting better and people were getting happier. Under this peculiar analysis, our estimation of well-being is actually inflated by divorces, car crashes and wars, as long as those calamities produce new spending on goods and services.

Believe it or not, I do have a complex inner life just like you, and I enjoy being alone. I need it. And I’ve never been happier than I was when I finally figured this out about myself. So if you’re an introvert like me, especially a female introvert, or a person who is expected to give away your energy to everyone else on the reg, I want to encourage you to find time to be alone. Don’t be afraid to excuse yourself. Recharge for as long as you need. Lean up against a tree and take a break from the other bears. I’ll be there too, but I promise not to bother you.

When Breitwieser seemed intractably sullen, his parents, who had noted that visiting a museum always helped restore his equilibrium, would drop him off at any of a dozen small museums nearby and allow him to wander for an afternoon alone. He would find a private spot, out of the sight line of guards, and slide his hands across sculptures and paintings, sensing the tiny irregularities and imperfections. “Witness marks,” as art experts call them, do not exist on machine-stamped wares, and attest to the uniqueness of human creations, no two brushstrokes or chisel strikes ever the same. By the time his parents arrived to pick him up, he was invariably happier.

Being alone in this life does not mean that you are dead. You may be happier than many people who feel isolated, sad, and failure, even though they are surrounded by many beneficial people.

In fact, being able to see how people create loving environments and relationships, despite being targeted and vilified for it, helped me understand how much happier one can be when not conforming to patriarchal expectations. And because members of the LGBTQIA+ community often have to form tight-knit friendships and found-family structures with one another, it's inspired me to invest deeply in my nonromantic relationships. That's what's provided the foundation of feeling like I'd be okay even if I ended up alone, without a romantic relationship, because the friends, family, and community I surround myself with are more than enough. I don't need to let a horrible man into the equation just to feel loved. I am already plenty loved without that.

She felt sorry for him. His worldview was so limited, and it hadn't necessarily been his fault. He was a victim of his upbringing. "I don't expect you to understand. But you can respect what we want and drop all of this legal stuff. No one cares about it. No one's paying attention to you. It's why Mom hasn't come to court. We have more important things to tend to." He seemed to realize he'd lost control of the conversation, and he groped around to take it back. "You're still a child, Meredith. You don't get to make these decisions." "Dad. Is this what you really want? To be in a house alone with me and Cliff? It would be so weird and awkward. You know it. I know it. So please, just let us be happy here. We'll all be so much happier if we admit what we want and allow each other to have it." Cooper sighed and chewed on the end of his sunglasses. He looked around at the property as if surveying the place, but she knew he was just avoiding eye contact. "Fine. If that's what you and Cliff really want." He put a hand up to the back of his head. "I love you guys, no matter what she's been saying to you. I'm still your father." Her face softened, and she put her arms out for a hug. "I know, Dad. I love you, too." He put his arms around her, and she could smell his cologne, like spicy, deep-hued oranges. He was such a fragile man at his core, and she started to write a spell in her head for his protection. Corn silk wrapped around an abandoned turtle shell until you can't see it. Must be kept in breast pocket of coat for storage against the heart. Words said while wrapping, "This man is a soft by-product of insulated privilege. He does not have the armor for this world. Give him this shell and protect him from harm."

With grace alone, we are safe from condemnation, but we cannot experience true intimacy. When the one who offers grace also offers truth (truth about who we are, truth about who he or she is, and truth about the world around us), and we respond with our true self, then real intimacy is possible. Real intimacy always comes in the company of truth.

It was quiet. Then he asked, “What do you have to do?” I pointed at his stress grip. “Things like that. I mean there’s more, but that’s a great place to start. But hey, I’m pretty similar to you in all this. I’ll show you a few things. You know, different ways to breathe, for example. How to talk to yourself in a positive way. How to realize that it’s the anxiety and not the situation. But on the positive side, do you know what happened when I learned to live with my anxiety instead of trying to find a way to get rid of it?” “What?” he asked. “Well, my life got better. I got happier. I started smiling more, and I stopped being so afraid all the time. And when I look back at my life thus far, I’ve gone to college. I’ve gotten married, gotten a good job, and had three amazing kids. All of it with my anxiety in the back seat. Life’s been pretty good despite my anxiety. Pretty sure it’s going to be the same for you.” I gave him one of those soft, fatherly punches to the arm. He let out this long breath, and I could almost see the steam of feeling odd or like he was holding on to some great burden alone come pouring out of him. Then he said something I think all dads never, ever, get tired of hearing. “Thanks, Dad.” “Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.

Instead, he focuses narrowly on owning a few well-run businesses that earn attractive returns on capital and have the ability to keep reinvesting their free cash flow at high rates of return. And then he has the restraint to “leave things well alone.” He has held Markel for twenty-seven years and made more than one hundred times his money. He has owned Berkshire Hathaway for forty-two years. His largest holding, American Tower Corporation, has risen from seventy-nine cents per share to about $260 since 2002. By constructing an unhurried life in a tranquil place, Akre can “shelter” himself from the influence of other investors’ “brilliant ideas” and “stay focused completely on the things that work for us.” In essence, he’s discovered one well-stocked pond, and he’s content to fish there for the rest of his days. Or, as Akre puts it, “We can’t dance with all the ladies.” All

Blaise Pascal: “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.