A Quote by Ruskin Bond

Happiness is a mysterious thing, to be found somewhere between too little and too much. — © Ruskin Bond
Happiness is a mysterious thing, to be found somewhere between too little and too much.
Shoes are the first thing I notice on a man. I like classic styles - not too square, not too pointy, not too fashiony. There's a fine line between too much and too little effort.
Happiness: a way station between too little and too much.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch tv too much. We have multiplied our possessions but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We've learned how to make a living but not a life. We've added years to life, not life to years.
Okay, if this is what falling in love feels like, someone please kill me now. (Not literally, overzealous readers.) But it was all too much - too much emotion, too much happiness, too much longing, perhaps too much ice cream.
I often found myself in situations where I had, without thinking, said too much to too many with too little caution.
It's unwise to pay too much, but it's worse to pay too little. When you pay too much, you lose a little money - that's all. When you pay too little, you sometimes lose everything, because the thing you bought was incapable of doing the thing it was bought to do. The common law of business balance prohibits paying a little and getting a lot - it can't be done. If you deal with the lowest bidder, it is well to add something for the risk you run, and if you do that you will have enough to pay for something better.
Too many cars, too many factories, too much detergent, too much pesticides, multiplying contrails, inadequate sewage treatment plants, too little water, too much carbon dioxide - all can be traced easily to too many people.
Too much, too little, too late, to ever try again. Too much, too little, too late, let's end it being friends.
If something takes too long, something happens to you. You become all and only the thing you want and nothing else, for you have paid too much for it, too much in wanting and too much in waiting and too much in getting.
Love is sublime, truly, a precious gift. But also, alas, one of God's little pranks. It's naive of you to confuse love with happiness, as if they were somehow the samae thing. In fact love, once found, is more akin to gravity: too strong, too close, and it will crush you. Unless you're careful, always.
I say too much of what, he says too much of everything, too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and I don't know where to begin but I want to try.
Somewhere between this kind of cruising freedom, and this understated moment where all these little things intertwine to create a bigger sound. You don't want one thing to be bright, or too prevalent.
I think everybody I've seen has come from some other therapy, and almost invariably, it's very much the same thing: the therapist is too disinterested, a little too aloof, a little too inactive. They're not really interested in the person; he doesn't relate to the person.
Keep the golden mean between saying too much and too little.
In politics, there's a fine line between too much conviction and too little.
China saves too much, produces too much, sells too much to Americans and consumes too little.
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