One cannot divine nor forecast the conditions that will make happiness; one only stumbles upon them by chance, in a lucky hour, at the world’s end somewhere, and holds fast to the days, as to fortune or fame.

Willa Cather, “Le Lavandou,” 1902 6Fyy9gKq240rdlo27OSkx9xguE+VAtXNMaTdCOiy7M1icIwfHru4NHT1I2v2EqON