For a long time the idea was only a doodle in my notebook. "Happy families," wrote Tolstoy, "are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Why, I wondered, do so many intelligent people cite that line... without ever seeming to question whether it's true? Do we honestly agree with Tolstoy that only tragedy is interesting... that happiness is boring, cliché? And if so, what does this say about our own expectations and dreams? Is our choice really between being interestingly tragic, or else being automatons of contentment? Or can happiness be quirky, hilarious, deeply challenging?
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