Mirth pleaseth some, to others ’tis offence,
Some commend plain conceit, some profound sense;
Some wish a witty Jest, some dislike that,
And most would have themselves they know not what.
Then he that would please all, and himself too,
Takes more in hand than he is like to do.
III Mon. May hath xxxi days. – Benjamin Franklin
All my life my critics in their more desperate moments have maligned me for my general mirth; the same have complained about the generally joyful atmosphere which permeates most of that which is under my care. To any critic thus disposed I say “lighten up, live a little.”
Perhaps I am biting off more than most would chew, but I cannot imagine living any other way.