If everyone were happy all the time we’d have no art, no literature, and probably no air-conditioning.

So it’s a good thing.

You have to be somewhat miserable to create interesting things, like Frisbees, which were invented to stave off clinical depression in mental patients.

People who are always happy are either idiots or suicidal.

I’ve never trusted them.

My father used to refer to them as “Happy Jack’s, which was a pejorative reference. He was proud of his depression, and thus, mistrusted those who weren’t with good reason.

In the end, the quest for perpetual happiness is ridiculous, and any legitimate psychiatrist who gets you to buy into this delusion knows you’re either an idiot or suicidal, which is why you’re there in the first place.