The Frenchman said, "When you treat a beautiful woman to a night at the theatre, take her home, and take her to bed, that is happiness."
"Bah!" said the Italian. "That is only lust. When you sit down to a fine meal with all your favourite foods and enjoy them until you are sated, that is happiness."
"That is merely gluttony," said the Russian. "When you are sitting in your two-room apartment with your wife, her parents, and your children, eating a meal of thin gruel and stale bread -- you hear heavy footsteps pounding up the stairwell. They stop outside your door and with a loud crash the door bursts inward to reveal three large men with brutish faces and cheap suits. Then one of them says, "Comrade Filiminov?" And you reply, "No. He lives upstairs." When they turn to leave, THAT is happiness.