Bokelskere.no

What obliges us to use up our short lives between the four walls of a factory or an office, dying of a heart attack at 60 or perhaps earlier, without having enjoyed the sea, the mountains, fine wine, agreeable friends, all because of some economic indicators? How much happiness is a car capable of bestowing on us, or a state-of-the-art computer so that it's worth trading in our own freedom?

The happiness of each day is nourished by the memory of what we experienced yesterday, the week before, last year, and by the effort of repeating similar moments.