Wanting nothing and knowing it.
The mental sunshine of content.
A will-o'-the-wisp which eludes us even when we grasp it.
Excelsior! The ever-retreating summit on the hill of our ambition.
The prize at the top of a greasy pole which is continually slipping from
The only thing a man continues to search for after he has found it.
The bull's-eye on the target at which all the human race are shooting.
The goal erected for the human race, which few reach, being too heavily
A wayside flower growing only by the path of duty.
A bright and beautiful butterfly, which many chase but few can take.
The interest we receive from capital invested in good works.
The birthright of contentment.
A treasure which we search for far and wide, though oft-times it is
lying at our feet.
The summer weather of the mind.