The sensible thing is to try and make the best of things as we find 'em: enjoy ourselves, and do the best we can for each other.

Life's too short to quarrel and we'll hall soon be dead!' At the end of this lengthy speech, the philosophic Philpot abstractedly grasped a jam-jar and raised it to his lips; but suddenly remembering that it contained stewed tea and not beer, set it down again without drinking.
'Let us begin at the beginning,' continued Owen, taking no notice of these interruptions.

'First of all, what do you mean by Poverty ?' 'Why, if you've got no money, of course,' said Crass impatiently.
The others laughed disdainfully.

It seemed to them such a foolish question.
'Well, that's true enough as far as it goes,' returned Owen, 'that is, as things are arranged in the world at present.

But money itself is not wealth: it's of no use whatever.' At this there was another outburst of jeering laughter.
'Supposing for example that you and Harlow were shipwrecked on a desolate island, and YOU had saved nothing from the wreck but a bag containing a thousand sovereigns, and he had a tin of biscuits and a bottle of water.' 'Make it beer!' cried Harlow appealingly.
'Who would be the richer man, you or Harlow ?' 'But then you see we ain't shipwrecked on no dissolute island at all,' sneered Crass.