And It Occurred To Me...

The Savage shook his head. "It all seems to me quite horrible."

"Of course it does. Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand."

 Maybe that's what's wrong. I don't want happy. I'm always bitching about how I'm never happy, but maybe I am. All accounts would point to it, anyway. Perhaps the problem is not that I'm not happy, but that I don't want happiness. I want grandness.