It is one of my sources of happiness never to desire a knowledge

Host: The garden café sat tucked between two narrow streets, hidden behind ivy-covered walls and the soft hum of distant traffic. The afternoon light was mild, golden — the kind that made everything look like it belonged to memory rather than time. A few scattered leaves drifted across the cobblestone path, tracing invisible patterns toward the wrought-iron tables.

At one such table, Jack sat with a cup of black coffee cooling beside him, flipping through a small leather notebook. His eyes, sharp and silver-gray, glanced up occasionally to watch people pass by — the way one might watch waves and pretend not to envy their freedom. Across from him, Jeeny sat with a glass of lemonade and a half-eaten scone, sketching something abstract on the corner of a napkin.

Between them lay a small silence, comfortable but alive — the kind that grows only between two people who have stopped pretending to fill it.

Jeeny: “Dolley Madison once said, ‘It is one of my sources of happiness never to desire a knowledge of other people’s business.’”

Jack: smirking faintly “A woman ahead of her time — and ours.”

Jeeny: smiling softly “Maybe she just understood peace.”

Jack: leans back, glancing at the passersby “Peace, or indifference?”

Jeeny: “There’s a difference. Indifference closes the heart. Peace guards it.”

Jack: takes a sip of coffee “So ignorance is noble now?”

Jeeny: meeting his gaze “Not ignorance — restraint. The wisdom to know which truths aren’t yours to carry.”

Jack: grinning faintly “You sound like a monk on sabbatical.”

Jeeny: “And you sound like a man who confuses curiosity with care.”

Jack: chuckles softly “Isn’t curiosity the essence of connection?”

Jeeny: “No. Compassion is. Curiosity asks, ‘What are they doing?’ Compassion asks, ‘Why does it matter to them?’”

Host: The breeze picked up, fluttering the napkin under Jeeny’s hand. Somewhere nearby, a small radio played a jazz tune — low, lazy, full of warmth and sorrow in equal measure. The faint smell of baked bread drifted from inside the café, mixing with the scent of rain on old stone.

Jack leaned forward now, elbows on the table, his voice tinged with that half-cynical tone that always preceded a confession.

Jack: “You really think ignorance brings happiness? Look around — we live in an age built on knowing everything about everyone. People post their hearts online, and the world rewards them for bleeding publicly.”

Jeeny: “And how’s that working out for everyone?”

Jack: pauses, smirks “Touché.”

Jeeny: “Information isn’t intimacy, Jack. It’s noise disguised as understanding.”

Jack: “So you’re saying Dolley Madison was the first minimalist philosopher.”

Jeeny: laughs lightly “No, I’m saying she understood boundaries before psychology had a word for them.”

Jack: quietly “Boundaries. Such a modern obsession.”

Jeeny: “Because the world forgot them. We drown in each other’s chaos now. Every thought, every emotion, every argument — streamed, shared, dissected. And yet, we’re lonelier than ever.”

Jack: “Maybe we crave other people’s business because we’re terrified of our own.”

Jeeny: softly “Exactly.”

Host: The light shifted slightly as a cloud drifted across the sun, shadowing the café for a moment. The mood changed with it — not darker, just deeper.

Jack closed his notebook and looked at Jeeny, the air between them tinged with something more intimate than curiosity — recognition.

Jack: “You ever wonder what would happen if people actually stopped paying attention to everyone else’s lives?”

Jeeny: “The noise would fall silent. The comparisons would stop. And maybe we’d start hearing ourselves again.”

Jack: leans forward, voice quiet “That sounds terrifying.”

Jeeny: smiles faintly “That’s because self-awareness always is.”

Jack: pauses “You really think happiness is as simple as minding your own business?”

Jeeny: “It’s not simple. It’s sacred. The moment you stop needing to control or compare, you finally make room for peace.”

Jack: half-smiles “And what if minding my own business means ignoring suffering?”

Jeeny: “That’s not what Dolley meant. She wasn’t advocating selfishness. She was reminding us that empathy without boundaries becomes martyrdom.”

Jack: “So, selective compassion.”

Jeeny: “No — compassionate clarity. Knowing when your care heals and when it intrudes.”

Host: The sunlight returned, sliding back into the space between them, gilding the table, the coffee cup, Jeeny’s quiet expression. A group of children ran by on the cobblestones, their laughter ringing like bells.

Jack watched them for a long moment before speaking again — his tone gentler, almost wistful.

Jack: “You know, I used to think being aware of everyone else’s lives made me smarter. Like empathy was an endless responsibility.”

Jeeny: “That’s not empathy, Jack. That’s exhaustion with a halo.”

Jack: grins faintly “You’ve got a quote for everything.”

Jeeny: “Only because everyone keeps living the same lessons.”

Jack: sighs, leaning back “So Madison’s happiness wasn’t from detachment — it was from discipline.”

Jeeny: “Yes. The discipline to let people own their stories. The courage to not steal their pain just to feel important.”

Jack: after a pause “That’s rare now.”

Jeeny: softly “It was rare then too. That’s why it’s wisdom.”

Host: A waiter passed by, setting down a fresh pot of coffee, the aroma curling between them. The world outside moved on — a cyclist, a street violinist, the whisper of passing time.

The café seemed suspended in its own quiet orbit, far from noise, far from need.

Jack: “You know, I think I envy her. To be content in your own mind — to not need to know, to not be consumed by other people’s storms.”

Jeeny: “It’s not envy you’re feeling. It’s longing. We all want that kind of quiet. We just forgot how to protect it.”

Jack: looking down at his coffee “And maybe that’s the real revolution — peace without apathy.”

Jeeny: smiling softly “Yes. Serenity without withdrawal. Awareness without invasion.”

Jack: “And happiness without comparison.”

Jeeny: nods “That’s the one worth keeping.”

Host: The sun dipped lower now, the shadows stretching long across the café floor. The last few patrons had gone, leaving only the hum of life outside the ivy walls.

Jeeny gathered her napkin sketches, folding them neatly. Jack closed his notebook, tucking it into his coat. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the soft rhythm of the world — calm, unbothered, almost holy.

Host: And as they rose to leave, Dolley Madison’s words lingered in the space they left behind — light as the dust motes in the sunbeam, heavy as the truth they carried:

Happiness is not found in knowing everything.
It is found in knowing enough —
enough to care,
enough to stop.

To refuse the temptation of gossip and judgment,
to honor privacy as peace.

For the quiet mind is not an empty one —
it is a sanctuary.

And as Jack and Jeeny stepped out into the fading light,
their footsteps soft against the stone,
the city’s noise returned —
but this time,
it did not reach them.