Quotes About Happiness

Find fitness with fun dancing. It is fun and makes you forget about the dreaded exercise.

I'm happily single.

How lucky you are, to love and to be loved in return.

Home isn't a place at all. Home is having someone's face light up when you walk into a room.

I find that the older I get, the more I see that there really aren't huge zeniths of happiness or a huge abyss of darkness as much as there used to be.

Just watching my cats can make me happy.

We're all of us afraid of many things, but if you make yourself smaller or let your fear confine you, then you really aren't your own person at all—are you? The real question is whether or not you will risk what it takes to be happy.

Ernest once told me that the word paradise was a Persian words that meant walled garden. I knew then that he understood how necessary the promises we made to each other were to our happiness. You couldn't have real freedom unless you knew were the walls were and tended to them. We could lean on the walls because they existed; they existed because we leaned on them.

Happiness is so awfully complicated, but freedom isn't. You're either tied down or you're not.

Maybe happiness was an hourglass already running out, the grains tipping, sifting past each other. Maybe it was a state of mind.

We're all of us afraid of many things, but if you make yourself smaller or let your fear confine you, then you really aren't your own person at all—are you? The real question is whether or not you will risk what it takes to be happy." She was referring to Jock, but her words made me think of other things, too. "Are you happy, Karen?" "Not yet. But I mean to be.

You make your life with someone and you love that person and you think it's enough. But it's never enough, is it?

It was terrible to feel so empty, as if I were nothing. Why couldn't I be happy? And just what was happines anyway?

i liked feeling strong and was uncomfortable knowing that had vanished whne he left. was my happiness so completely tied to him now that i could only feel like myself when he was near? i had no idea.

I had come alive here...this was my home, and though one day it would all trickle through my fingers like so much red dust, for as long as childhood lasted it was a heaven fitted exactly to me. A place I knew by heart. The one place in the world I'd been made for.

I want to be passionate about things and feed my mind and travel the world. I'd rather be darkly and dangerously happy, like living on a knife's edge, than lose my way and forget my nature.

Was my happiness so completely tied to him now that I could only feel like myself when he was near?

rnest once told me that the word paradise was a Persian word that meant "walled garden." I knew then that he understood how necessary the promises we made to each other were to our happiness. You couldn't have real freedom unless you knew where the walls were and tended them. We could lean on the walls because they existed; they existed because we leaned on them.

We were here together now, I told myself. Everything was lovely and fine. I should just know it and hold on to it and be happy. I would. I would try.

He read aloud to me as I curled next to him, both of our bodies in a warm arc of light. For nearly ten years I'd wanted this…this exactly. Is he really here? I thought. Am I? Denys read on, his voice rising and falling, while a leopard moth that had got caught in the curtains stopped struggling for a moment, and realized it was free.

I also liked to look around at the houses surrounding the park and wonder about the people who filled them, what kinds of marriages they had and how they loved or hurt each other on any given day, and if they were happy, and whether they thought happiness was a sustainable thing.

But the loss came with moments of incredible happiness, and the feeling of being seen and understood, of being found. There might be no future, no future at all, but time had sharpened into an unforgettable point. And that was a version of forever. That might be the only version of forever worth reaching for.

Was my happiness so completely tied to him now that I could only feel like myself when he was near? I had no idea.

Maybe happiness was an hourglass already running out, the grains tipping, sifting past each other.