(via this isn’t happiness)
WINNIE: That is what I find so wonderful, that not a day goes by — to speak in the old style — hardly a day, without some addition to one’s knowledge however trifling, the addition I mean, provided one takes the pains. And if for some strange reason no further pains are possible, why then just close the eyes — and wait for the day to come — the happy day to come when flesh melts at so many degrees and the night of the moon has so many hundred hours.
Happy Days, a play by Samuel Beckett

