The days had passed without great peaks and troughs of emotion; her job and the domestic rituals that went with each season had been sufficiently varied and rewarding to occupy her. Small pleasures – the first cigarette of the day; a glass of sherry before Sunday lunch; a bar of chocolate parcelled out to last a week; a newly published library book, still pristine and untouched by other hands; the first hyacinths of spring; a neatly folded pile of ironing, smelling of summer; the garden under snow; an impulsive purchase of stationary for her drawer – had been encouragement enough. She wondered how many years – if ever – it would be before the monster of awakened longing was subdued and she could return to placid acceptance of a limited life.
aus: Clare Chambers: Small Pleasures, Weidenfeld & Nicolson 2020, S. 328
buchpost 
The volcano under the surface cannot be prevented from erupting!
It might also turn to bitterness.