Quotes About Contentment

I don't collect anything.

There's a couple—she is nestled up into his chest, eyes closed, like she's trying to top off an interrupted night's sleep.

She is happy, because she doesn't have a single thought in her head, a single care, a single expectation or hope. It's a good feeling.

Moliwda knows that despite appearances, it is a happy marriage. Meaning: They each do their own thing.

The people aren't in a hurry, and don't compete against each other all the time. They don't go chasing after pipe dreams. They're happy with who they are and what they have.

They really were the people from the well - they'd fallen into it long ago and had now arranged their lives at the bottom of it, thinking the well was the entire world.

I will get a cat and a parrot and live alone in single blessedness.

Why hate, and struggle, and fight? Let is be as it would.

Birds seem to be the happiest creatures on earth, yet they have none of what we call the comforts of life.

I would have been glad to have lived under my woodside, and to have kept a flock of sheep, rather than to have undertaken this government.

I have tried in my time to be a philosopher; but somehow cheerfulness was always breaking in.

Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt: It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

O, blest retirement! friend to life's decline - How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, A youth of labor with an age of ease!

They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem,Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.

How happy he who crowns in shades like these,A youth of labor with an age of ease.

Man wants but little here below,Nor wants that little long.

My friends, my children, and fellow sufferers, when I reflect on the distribution of good and evil here below, I find that much has been given man to enjoy, yet still more to suffer. Though we should examine the whole world, we shall not find one man so happy as to have nothing left to wish for; but we daily see thousands who by suicide shew us they have nothing left to hope. In this life then it appears that we cannot be entirely blest; but yet we may be completely miserable!

Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt: It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

Still to ourselves in every place consign'd, Our own felicity we make or find.

A hair in the head is worth two in the brush.

Pick my left pocket of its silver dime, but spare the right - it holds my golden time!

Don't you stay at home of evenings? Don't you love a cushioned seat in a corner, by the fireside, with your slippers on your feet?

The world has to learn that the actual pleasure derived from material things is of rather low quality on the whole and less even in quantity than it looks to those who have not tried it.

Pick my left pocket of its silver dime, but spare the right — it holds my golden time!