Perfect Happiness (1983)

About book Perfect Happiness (1983)

"Happiness, of course, is forever bound to place, to the physical world. We are never happy now, only then. Walking then on a Dorset hill, wind lifting the hair, and a hand, suddenly, on one's back ...Sunlight sifting down through the apple tree in the garden of Pulborough, lying like coins among the daisies of the lawn. Happiness is out there, back there, in association with these sights and sounds, and to retrieve it is to retrieve them also, to bring them crowding into the dark bedroom at three in the morning: mocking. Perfect happiness, past perfect, pluperfect. "Unhappiness, now so intimately known, is a very different matter. Unhappiness is now, not then at all. Unhappiness is like being in love: it occupies every moment of every day. It will not be put aside and like love it isolates; grief is never contagious."

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