Look at me.

You are not happy as you are, are you?
Not perfectly happy ?" "No." She smoothed her fan with her fingers.
"Are you happy at all ?" "I thought I was once.

I'm not any more, I think." "It is so plain why," he commented.

"You are so much more wonderful than your place gives you scope for.

You are an individual, not an acolyte to swing a censer for another.