Monday, July 16, 2018

Happiness is how far one can go on nothing more than lubricated imagination

Should but his muse descending drop
A slice of bread and mutton chop,
Or kindly, when his credit's out,
Surprise him with a pint of stout;
Exalted in his mighty mind,
He flies and leaves the stars behind.

-- Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)