Be Pleasant.
Maybe there are some little jars, rattles, gratings, you are not aware of. Few of us are honest when looking for our own faults. There may be some sand in your gear box. It won't hurt you to keep the personal question alive for a few days,—"Am I pleasant to live with?"
I love the pleasant people whether they are fat, lean, tall, short, red heads, brown heads, homely, handsome, republicans or democrats, business men or artisans.
The complaining, unpleasant grouch is like a bear with a toothache. Miserable himself and spreading misery all around.
A freckle-faced, red-headed, cross-eyed man with a healthy funny bone will spread more cheerfulness and sunshine than a bench full of sad and solemn justices of the supreme court, or a religious conference.
What a different story would be written of Job, if he had only possessed a servant who could dance a double shuffle and whistle "Dixie" while cooking breakfast.
David was a man after my own heart; he brought gladsome songs into the world. He said, "Live the way of pleasantness."
You can pray, sing, play, work, think, rest, hope; you can be well or ill, rich or poor and still be pleasant to live with.
Pleasantness a Tonic Quality.
Being pleasant helps you to be strong in body and mind, and it keeps you young a long time. It's good medicine; I know it. My little motto, "Be pleasant every morning until ten o'clock, the rest of the day will take care of itself," has brought sunshine into many homes.