"<p>Happiness, of course, does not exist in the distillable, packageable, labelable sense that most people imagine. It's like going to a pharmacy, where they give you, for three sixty, a medicine, and then nothing hurts anymore. It's like having a man for a woman, or a woman for a man, living somewhere, and once they meet, no more misunderstanding, no more selfishness, no more anger, just eternal serenity, constant contentment, cheerfulness, and health. As if happiness were anything other than a desire for the unattainable!</p> <p>Most people spend a lifetime preparing for happiness methodically, sweatily, diligently, and tirelessly. They make plans to be happy, they travel and toil to that end, and they gather the requisites of happiness with the diligence of the ant and the predatory greed of the tiger. And when life has passed, they learn that it is not enough to have all the requisites of happiness. You have to be happy, too, in the process. And they forgot that.</p>"