Happiness and sadness run parallel to each other.
When one takes a rest,
the other one tends to take up the slack.
I remember the lowest point in my life, when I was having one problem after another, I didn’t stop to ask myself if I was happy.
I knew I wasn’t.
Whether happiness is a state of mind, an emotion or a goal.
A big house, a new dress or even just a huge slice of pepperoni pizza,
it doesn’t matter.
What matters is that when we are happy—we know it.
And if I were to ask you, I’m sure you’d be able to tell me if you were, too.
We don’t need to look up the definition of happiness in the dictionary.
We don’t need to study religion or philosophy (although they could help). Whether we are happy in general.
Or for a week, a day or a moment.
We feel it. We experience it.
We just are.
The pursuit of happiness
is a most ridiculous phrase:
if you pursue happiness you’ll never find it.