Perhaps it is reading quietly by a crackling fireside; or playing fetch with the dog; or that moment of peaceful quietude just before sleep overwhelms; those moments, where worries of the world and daily living expenses intrude not, and time remains frozen just long enough to allow for an interlude of soundless music. There have always been pleasures in life; we often overlook them, take them for granted, or merely avoid recognition, lest an identification of it as such would mark them for extinguishment by those imaginary goblins of demonic demolition set out to destroy all remaining vestiges and residues of joy and comfort. […]