To be pleased with one's limits is a wretched state.
Hmmm. Why? Assuming that one has correctly perceived one's limits and they are, in fact, true limits: why would being pleased with them be a wretched state? I will admit that being "pleased" with a limit seems a bit odd; I think most of us would like to experience winged flight, for example. But why is it "wretched?" I might be willing to go with "naive" or "unmotivated," or perhaps "unimaginative." But "wretched?" I don't think so. There's a lot to be said for acceptance. Of course, acceptance doesn't equate to being "pleased."COMF"Not unless fired upon, suh... not unless fired upon."