Happiness (n.) is often missed because it seems so preposterous to make ourselves unhappy in order to be happy.
Happiness (n.) cannot coexist with even a little pain — a little pain mars all the pleasure we rejoiced in, so relief always comes first.
Happiness (n.) is a portion each man draws for himself; good outside that portion, however great, he can look at, admire, and pass by without desire.
Happiness (n.) of which one is not conscious is impossible; a soul pleased in its sleep would be no happier for the man than the bed he lies on.
Happiness (n.) is a matter of palate: the mind has its relish as the tongue does, and you will no more delight all men with glory than feed them all on lobster.
Happiness (n.) and misery mark the limit of our concern: sense-evidence is as certain as pleasure or pain, beyond which we have no concernment either of knowing or being.
Happiness (n.) desired, and misery averted, are the innate practical principles that never cease to operate, inclinations of the appetite to good and not impressions of truth on the understanding.