Tell me," she said quietly. "If that [happiness] machine…
““Tell me," she said quietly. "If that [happiness] machine is like you say, has it got an answer to making babies in it somewhere? Can that machine make seventy-year-old people twenty? Also, how does death look when you hide in there with all that happiness?" "Hide!" "If you died from overwork, what should I do today, climb in that big box down there and be happy? Also tell me, Lee, how is our life? You know how our house is. Seven in the morning, breakfast, the kids; all of you gone by eight thirty and it's just me and washing and me and cooking and socks to be darned, weeds to be dug, or I run to the store or polish silver. Who's complaining? I'm just reminding you how the house is put together, Lee, what's in it! So now answer: How do you get all those things I said in one machine?" "That's not how it's built!" "I'm sorry. I got no time to look, then." And she kissed his cheek and went from the room and he lay smelling the wind that blew from the hidden machine below, rich with the odor of those roasted chestnuts that sold in the autumn streets of a Paris he had never known . . .””
About This Quote
This interpretation was drafted with AI assistance. It is one reading of the quote, not the author's own explanation.
A character questions whether a happiness‑producing machine can solve all life’s problems, including aging, death, and daily burdens, revealing the limits of technological utopia.
In simple terms: Can a machine truly fix human suffering and mortality?
Question the promise of technology as a cure‑all.
Themes
Mood
Type
When to use this quote
- parenting
- caregiving
- loneliness
- work‑life balance
- ethical dilemmas
Key Concepts
Questions to Reflect On
- What would you sacrifice for a perfect happiness machine?
- Can true fulfillment be engineered?
Technology cannot replace the complexities of human experience and relationships.