Contentment (n.) with one's lot is an art a thousand times more valuable than dancing or fencing.
Contentment (n.) with mere living would make a man happy, and therefore good, for what would he have to gain by vice?
Contentment (n.) with yourself is unavoidable work, since you share your life with the one man you cannot leave.
Contentment (n.) leaves nothing to wish for: the future no longer matters, or seems only the present moment prolonged.
Contentment (n.) kills reverie: happy and expected, his journey brought no celestial visions — he was simply where he was, seeing trees as trees.
Contentment (n.) when true is neither merry nor noisy: a really happy man says little and laughs little, and hugs his happiness to his heart.