"Where was it ever promised us that life on this earth can ever be easy, free from conflict and uncertainty, devoid of anguish and wonder and pain? Those who seek the folly of endless happiness -- who fear moods, who shun solitude, who do not know the dignity of occasional depression - - can find bliss easy enough in tranquilizing pills or in senility.
The purpose of life is not to be happy. the purpose of life is to matter, to be productive, to have it make some difference that you lived at all. Happiness, in the ancient, noble sense, means self-fulfillment -- and it is given to those who use the fullest of whatever talents God or fate bestowed upon them. Happiness lies in stretching the resources of the mind and heart to the farthest boundaries of which we are capable."
Leo Rasten took these words right out of my mouth.