Contentment Quotes

Indeed, I have observed one ingredient, somewhat necessary in a man’s composition towards happiness, which people of feeling would do well to acquire; a certain respect for the follies of mankind: for there are so many fools whom the opinion of the world entitles to regard, whom accident has placed in heights of which they are unworthy, that he who cannot restrain his contempt or indignation at the sight will be too often quarrelling with the disposal of things to relish that share which is allotted to himself. 

In a clock, stop but one wheel and you stop every wheel, because they are dependent upon one other. So when God has ordered a thing for the present to be thus and thus, how do you know how many things depend upon this thing? God may have some work to do twenty years hence that depends on this passage of providence that falls out this day or this week.

If all our misfortunes were laid in one common heap whence everyone must take an equal portion, most people would be content to take their own and depart.

Whoever is content,shall be cheerful.

It isn't what you have or who you are or where you are or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about it.

It's probably the best memory I have from my whole life. Just waiting to see some dolphins that never came.

Happiness is not a goal...it's a by-product of a life well lived.

The angel of God, having secretly Betrothed us one winter day,Watches over our carefree livesWith fixed, darkening eyesBecause of this we love the sky,Keen air, the fresh windAnd the blackening branchesBehind the iron fence.Because of this we love the sternDark city with its many waterways.And we love our partings,And our brief meetings.

Learn from yesterday, live for today, look to tomorrow, rest this afternoon.

The moment we go looking for anything outside of ourselves, i.e., when we make our happiness contingent on another, we have a serious problem. All of the emotions and feelings that we have come from within―we have those natural capacities ourselves. If we did not have an appetite to begin with, food would hold no appeal. It does not make us hungry; it merely stimulates that hunger inside of us. The same is true of all virtues and vices. Everything we need to gratify us can be found within, if only we venture to look and not pay heed to the bright and blinding lights that have enthralled most of this world.

If you place two flowers in the same vase, they will not argue over who is more beautiful.

Living life with contentment is the greatest well-being.

One has to learn contentment, forgiveness, and purpose on her own before the universe allows her to share her happiness with another soul.

A cat knows how to be comfortable, how to get the people around it to serve it. In a tranquil domestic situation, the cat is a veritable manipulative genius. It seeks the soft, it seeks the warm, it prefers the quiet and it loves to be full. It displays, when it gets its own way in these matters, a degree of contentment we would all like to emulate.

Give me a bottle of hard cider, a bowl of Peterson Irish Oak in my Neerup pipe, and please, above all, give my Henry David Thoreau’s Wild Apples. Do that and you will see a man contented.

Life is contentment not a competition.

I was so nearly happy. There remained only a tiny something, something unexplained and inexplicable that buzzed in my ear when the lights were out, like a malarial mosquito.

Content people give fashion a life. All the rest seek a life from fashion.

Sometimes in life, as in literature, people get their just desserts. The greedy man loses everything because he cannot resist seeking more riches.

A rich man is not one who has the most, but one who needs the least.

The greatest wealth is to live content with little.

If at eighty you're not a cripple or an invalid, if you have your health, if you still enjoy a good walk, a good meal (with all the trimmings), if you can sleep without first taking a pill, if birds and flowers, mountains and sea still inspire you, you are a most fortunate individual and you should get down on your knees morning and night and thank the good Lord for his savin' and keepin' power. If you are young in years but already weary in spirit, already on your way to becoming an automaton, it may do you good to say to your boss - under your breath, of course - "Fuck you, Jack! you don't own me." If you can whistle up your ass, if you can be turned on by a fetching bottom or a lovely pair of teats, if you can fall in love again and again, if you can forgive your parents for the crime of bringing you into the world, if you are content to get nowhere, just take each day as it comes, if you can forgive as well as forget, if you can keep from going sour, surly, bitter and cynical, man you've got it half licked.

Contentment is a state of happiness and satisfaction. The choices we make are our own decisions for how we want to live our life.

Contentment is indispensable joy.

Watching too much TV can triple our hunger for more possessions, while reducing our personal contentment by about 5 percent for every hour a day we watch.

What we decide does not mean will always happen, so be content with what you are

The beauty of the soul enfold in spiritual-life.

Sage.” He laughed. “I’m into anything, so long as you’re with me.

Satiety depends not at all on how much we eat, but on how we eat. It's the same with happiness, the very same...happiness doesn't depend on how many external blessings we have snatched from life. It depends only on our attitude toward them. There's a saying about it in the Taoist ethic: 'Whoever is capable of contentment will always be satisfied.

Whoever is content, shall be cheerful.

Once you have the gift of life, you are blessed.

We are sometimes dragged into a pit of unhappiness by someone else’s opinion that we do not look happy.

To be happy without your wants is greatest contentment.

True affluence is not needing anything.

You have enough to share with the world; the gift of love, kindness, goodness, smiles, hugs, prayer, inspiration, fellowship, volunteerism and many more.

Contentment is a pearl of great price, and whoever procures it at the expense of ten thousand desires makes a wise and a happy purchase.

A contented mind is the greatest blessing a man can enjoy in this world.

Inner contentment liberates the soul

I have never loved Fortune, even when she seemed most to love me. I never considered her treasures mine, neither her money, nor her office nor her influence. Her theft of these things, therefore. has taken away nothing of my own. Mother, my roof is the stars. My house is human goodness. My body is clothed. My stomach is full. And the thirstier part of me, my soul, drinks gladly from the pool of my books.So much for me. I am just fine.

It is not simply that God has arbitrarily made us such that He is our only good. Rather God is the only good of all creatures: and by necessity, each must find its good in that kind and degree of fruition of God which is proper to its nature. The kind and degree may vary with the creature's nature: but that there ever could be any other good, is an atheistic dream. George Macdonald, in a passage I cannot now find, represents God as saying to men, 'You must be strong with my strength and blessed with my blessedness, for I have no other to give you.' That is the conclusion of the whole matter. God gives what He has, not what He has not: He gives the happiness that there is, not the happiness that is not. To be God - to be like God and to share His goodness in creaturely response - to be miserable - these are the only three alternatives. If we will not learn to eat the only food that the universe grows - that only food that any possible universe ever can grow - then we must starve eternally.

When you see your feet with no footwear, also see those with no feet.

It is in the nature of man to want what he does not have. This modern concern for happiness seems a real testimony of its absence.

A book of verses underneath the boughA flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thouBeside me singing in the wildernessAnd wilderness is paradise now.

Just this once, in the very heart of the busiest of cities, everyone was perfectly content not to move and hardly to breathe. And for those few minutes, while the song lasted, Times Square was still as a meadow at evening, with the sun streaming in on the people there and the wind moving among them as if they were only tall blades of grass.

All I ever think about day and night is-how can I make a difference in the lives of others, how can I provide an ounce of contentment and happiness?

Was it possible to do both, to contribute to the world while merely observing it? To be content in the moment, but plan for the future? Could you follow your heart without losing all common sense?

The world is already yours - why try to conquer it?

Follow the dreams that your heart visualizes, as what you actually see is just an illusion of temporary contentment.

I should be contentto look at a mountainfor what it isand not as a comment on my life.

You do not have to have the best of everything to make the best of everything.

Live near to God, and so all things will appear to you little In comparison to eternal realities.--

If you stay open to the wisdom of your Muse, you may discover you’re a playwright, a sculptor, a kitchen-table comedian, a beacon of creative kindness, or a person who chooses grace over ego and contentment over greed. And in that choice you will create an world of joy within yourself, you’ll truly be an artist of being alive.

just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch

(about William Blake)As for Blake's happiness--a man who knew him said: "If asked whether I ever knew among the intellectual, a happy man, Blake would be the only one who would immediately occur to me."And yet this creative power in Blake did not come from ambition. ...He burned most of his own work. Because he said, "I should be sorry if I had any earthly fame, for whatever natural glory a man has is so much detracted from his spiritual glory. I wish to do nothing for profit. I wish to live for art. I want nothing whatever. I am quite happy."...He did not mind death in the least. He said that to him it was just like going into another room. On the day of his death he composed songs to his Maker and sang them for his wife to hear. Just before he died his countenance became fair, his eyes brightened and he burst into singing of the things he saw in heaven.

Man was born for society. However little He may be attached to the World, He never can wholly forget it, or bear to be wholly forgotten by it. Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become an Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock. While Hate inflames his bosom, possibly He may feel contented with his situation: But when his passions begin to cool; when Time has mellowed his sorrows, and healed those wounds which He bore with him to his solitude, think you that Content becomes his Companion? Ah! no, Rosario. No longer sustained by the violence of his passions, He feels all the monotony of his way of living, and his heart becomes the prey of Ennui and weariness. He looks round, and finds himself alone in the Universe: The love of society revives in his bosom, and He pants to return to that world which He has abandoned. Nature loses all her charms in his eyes: No one is near him to point out her beauties, or share in his admiration of her excellence and variety. Propped upon the fragment of some Rock, He gazes upon the tumbling waterfall with a vacant eye, He views without emotion the glory of the setting Sun. Slowly He returns to his Cell at Evening, for no one there is anxious for his arrival; He has no comfort in his solitary unsavoury meal: He throws himself upon his couch of Moss despondent and dissatisfied, and wakes only to pass a day as joyless, as monotonous as the former.

...you play the instrument you have.

Fortify yourself with contentment for this is an impregnable fortress.

You will never get everything in life but you will get enough.

Life, if you keep chasing it so hard, will drive you to death. Time - when pursued like bandit - will behave like one; always remaining one country or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping out the back door of the motel just as you're banging through the lobby with your newest search warrant, leaving only a burning cigarette in the ashtray to taunt you. At some point you have to stop because it won't. You have to admit that you can't catch it. At some point, as Richard keeps telling me, you gotta let go and sit still and allow contentment to come to you.

Like everything else, we know the futility of money only when we have more than enough of it.