"As I have read, Byron just before his death told a friend that he had known but three happy hours during his whole existence. Then there is the old German legend of the kingâs bell, to the same point. While I was out there by the wood, that beautiful sunset through the trees, I thought of Byronâs and the bell story, and the notion started in me that I was having a happy hour. (Though perhaps my best moments I never jot down; when they come I cannot afford to break the charm by inditing memoranda. I just abandon myself to the mood and let it float on, carrying me in its placid ecstasy.)
What is happiness, anyhow? Is this one of its hours, or the like of it?âso impalpableâa mere breath, an evanescent tinge? I am not sureâso let me give myself the benefit of the doubt."
âWalt Whitman, Specimen Days
