Quotes About Happiness

I don't want to lose a single thread from the intricate brocade of this happiness .I want to remember everything.

And I thought: I shall remember this all my life. The peril, the running, the howling of the dogs, the smothering. Then the happiness—of action, of leaping. Then the green sweetness of distance. And the trees: their thickness and their compassion, all around.

How do I love you? Oh, this way and that way. Oh, happily. Perhaps I may elaborate by demonstration? Like this, and like this and no more words now

Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased... what would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?

I am so happy to be alive in this world I would like to live forever, but I am content not to. Seeing what I have seen has filled me; believing what I believe has filled me.

Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?

that is to say, having chosen to claim my life, I have made for myself, out of work and love, a handsome life.

there is still somewhere deep within you a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted— each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered lavishly, every morning, whether or not you have ever dared to be happy, whether or not you have ever dared to pray.

I think this is the prettiest world—so long as you don't mind a little dying, how could there be a day in your whole life that doesn't have its splash of happiness?

This I have always known - that if I did not live my life immersed in the one activity which suits me, and which also, to tell the truth, keeps me utterly happy and intrigued, I would come someday to bitter and mortal regret.

Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude? Have I endured loneliness with grace?

so long as you don't mind a little dying, how could there be a day in your whole life that doesn't have its splash of happiness?

Yes, a person wants to stand in a happy place, in a poem. But first we must watch her as she stares down at her labor, which is dull enough.

if you live simply and with a lyrical heart in the cumbered neighborhoods or even, as Mozart sometimes managed to, in a palace, offering tune after tune after tune, making some hard-hearted prince prudent and kind, just by being happy

I guess she was so busy with her own happiness she had grown careless and was just wandering along listening to the wind as she leaned down to lip the sweetness.

and also I am the leaves and the blossoms, and, like them, I am full of delight, and shaking.

I suppose they, those lives soaked in evil, are miserable and so they ever despise happiness. I suppose they feel powerless and therefore must exert power wherever they can, which is so often upon those unable to comprehend what is happening, much less defend themselves.

Such richness flowing through the branches of summer and into the body, carried inward on the five rivers! Disorder and astonishment rattle your thoughts and your heart cries for rest but don't succumb, there's nothing so sensible as sensual inundation. Joy is a taste before it's anything else, and the body can lounge for hours devouring the important moments. Listen, the only way to tempt happiness into your mind is by taking it into the body first, like small wild plums.

Every year the hatchlings wake in the swaying branches, in the silver baskets, and love the world. Is it necessary to say any more? Have you heard them singing in the wind, above the final fields? Have you ever been so happy in your life?

even silence can feel, to the world, like happiness, like praise, from the pool of shade you have found beside the everlasting.

and easily she adored every blossom, not in the serious, careful way that we choose this blossom or that blossom— the way we praise or don't praise— the way we love or don't love— but the way we long to be— that happy in the heaven of earth— that wild, that loving.

I was a poet, but I was away for a while from the loom of thought and formal language; I was playing. I was whimsical, absorbed, happy. Let me always be who I am, and then some.

We are happy, and we are lucky. We are neither political nor inclined to likecompany. Repeat: we are happy, and we are lucky. We make for each other: companionship, intimacy, affection, rhapsody. Whenever I hear of something horrible, I want to cover M.'s ears. Whenever I see something beautiful, and my heart is shouting, it is M. I run to, to tell about it.

For hours I wandered over the fields and the only thing that kept me company was a song, it glided along with my delicious dark happiness, my heavy, bristling and aching delight at the world which has been like this forever and forever— the leaves, the birds, the ponds, the loneliness