It takes a wonderful brain and exquisite senses to produce a few stupid ideas.
George SantayanaRead
A string of excited, fugitive, miscellaneous pleasures is not happiness; happiness resides in imaginative reflection and judgment, when the picture of one's life, or of human life, as it truly has been or is, satisfies the will, and is gladly accepted.
Interpretation
Happiness is not merely a collection of fleeting pleasures but a deeper understanding and acceptance of life.
George Santayana suggests that true happiness is found not in transient pleasures but in the thoughtful contemplation and acceptance of life's experiences. It is about finding satisfaction in the reality of one's life and interpreting those experiences meaningfully, which aligns one's will with genuine fulfillment.
In practice
Using this quote in a motivational speech about finding true contentment in life.
It takes a wonderful brain and exquisite senses to produce a few stupid ideas.
The working of great institutions is mainly the result of a vast mass of routine, petty malice, self interest, carelessness and sheer mistake. Only a residual fraction is thought.
There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval. The dark background which death supplies brings out the tender colours of life in all their purity.
Not to believe in love is a great sign of dullness. There are some people so indirect and lumbering that they think all real affection rests on circumstantial evidence.
To feel beauty is a better thing than to understand how we come to feel it. To have imagination and taste, to love the best, to be carried by the contemplation of nature to a vivid faith in the ideal, all this is more, a great deal more, than any science can hope to be.
The vital straining towards an ideal, definite but latent, when it dominates a whole life, may express that ideal more fully than could the best chosen words.
There are other ways of finding satisfaction, recipes for human happiness, enjoyment, dignified and meaningful, gratifying life, than increased consumption that increases production.
The happiest people I know are people who don't even think about being happy. They just think about being good neighbors, good people. And then happiness sort of sneaks in the back window while they are busy doing good.
To forget oneself is to be happy.
The constant happiness is curiosity.
Happiness consists in activity. It is a running stream, not a stagnant pool.
And when they went away, leaving comfort behind, I think there were not in all the city four merrier people than the hungry little girls who gave away their breakfasts and contented themselves with bread and milk on Christmas morning.
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