I always thought of happiness to be in these final passages of Walter Pater’s book, The Renaissance: “Every moment some form grows perfect in hand or face; som

I always thought of happiness to be in these final passages of Walter Pater’s book, The Renaissance: “Every moment some form grows perfect in hand or face; some tone on the hills or the sea is choicer than the rest; some mood of passion or insight or intellectual excitement is irresistibly real and attractive for us - for that moment only. Not the fruit of experience, but experience itself, is the end.”