Hear Prince Myshkin rhapsodize in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Idiot:
Is it really possible to be unhappy? Oh, what are my grief and trouble, if I am able to be happy? You know, I don’t understand how it’s possible to pass by a tree and not be happy to see it. To talk with a man and not be happy that you love him! Oh, I only don’t know how to say it . . . but there are so many things at every step that are so beautiful, that even the most confused person finds beautiful. Look at a child, look at God’s sunrise, look at the grass growing, look into the eyes that are looking at you and love you . . .