Indeed, man wishes to be happy even when he so lives as to make happiness impossible.

When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.

If you observe a really happy man you will find him building a boat, writing a symphony, educating his son, growing double dahlias in his garden.

The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions - the little soon forgotten charities of a kiss or smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment, and the countless infinitesimal of pleasurable and genial feeling.

The only really happy folk are married women and single men.

The happiest people seem to be those who have no particular reason for being happy except that they are so.

Happiness is an expression of the soul in considered actions.

Man's real life is happy chiefly because he is ever expecting that it soon will be so.

The happiest is he who suffers the least pain; the most miserable, he who enjoys the least pleasure.

How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes!