A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor — such is my idea of happiness.
What happened, then? You're stomping through every puddle you can find and look like you're going to punch the first person you see. " "Why are you hanging around, then? Aren't you worried about getting hit?" "Aw, you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty