Quotes About Joy

Lighthearted boys and girls were harvesting the grapes in woven baskets, while on a resonant harp a boy among them played a tune of longing, singing low with delicate voice a summer dirge. The others, breaking out in song for the joy of it, kept time together as they skipped along.

A man who has suffered much and wandered much has pleasure out of his sorrows.

No finer, greater gift in the world than that: When man and woman possess their home, two minds, two hearts that work as one. Despair to their enemies, a joy to all their friends. Their own best claim to glory.

Afrodita, amante de la risa

Ne rüzgar eserdi orada ne yaÄŸmur yaÄŸard?, kar bile düÅŸmezdi, yaz günlerinin bulutsuz havas? ve bembeyaz parlakl??? hüküm sürerdi; mutlu tanr?lar iÅŸte orada tad?n? ç?kar?rd? günlerinin.

And it was at this time that Sir Myles died of his hurt, for it is often so that death and misfortune befall some, whiles others laugh and sing for hope and joy, as though such grievous things as sorrow and death could never happen in the world wherein they live.

Whatever may be the tensions and the stresses of a particular day, there is always lurking close at hand the trailing beauty of forgotten joy or unremembered peace.

The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism reads, "What is the chief end of man?" The Catechism's answer: "Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever."[10] God graciously linked the pursuit of our chief purpose with our greatest experience of joy.

You can't hoard fun. It has no shelf life.

Detachment from the finite self or attachment to the whole of things—we can state the phenomenon either positively or negatively. When it occurs, life is lifted above the possibility of frustration and above ennui—the third threat to joy—as well, for the cosmic drama is too spectacular to permit boredom in the face of such vivid identification.

Describing Hinduism] All of us dwell on the bring of the infinite ocean of life's creative power. We carry it within us: supreme strength, the fullness of wisdom, unquenchable joy. It is never thwarted and cannot be destroyed. But it is hidden deep, which is what makes life a problem. The infinite is down in the darkest, profoundest vault of our being, in the forgotten well-house, the deep cistern. What if we could bring it to light and draw from it unceasingly. p26

But innocence is only pleasurable because it is transient.

Oh, it's all been such a lark.

I don't care the hell what other people eat so long as they enjoy it. I can't stand sad eaters and sad drinkers.

Vesper smiled at him. 'I like it,' she said. 'I like doing everything fully, getting the most out of everything one does. I think that's the way to live. But it sounds rather schoolgirlish when one says it,' she added apologetically.

Self-consciousness is the destroyer of erotic joy.

His tears were for joy, for a sudden warmth of understanding that did not yet have these terms of definition: how loving and good people were, how kind the world was that had ambulances in it that came quickly out of nowhere whenever there was sorrow and pain. Always there, an entire system, just below the surface of everyday life, watchfully waiting, ready with all its knowledge and skill to come and help, embedded within a greater network of kindness he had yet to discover.

I've never outgrown that feeling of mild pride, of acceptance, when children take your hand.

I saw the same joy, the same uncontrollable smile in the faces of a Nigerian earth mama, a thin-lipped Scottish granny and a pale correct Japanese businessman as they wheeled their trolleys in and recognised a figure in the expectant crowd. Observing human variety can give pleasure, but so too can human sameness

the beauty of poetic apprehension, the infinite joy of reason.

A man newly in love knows what life is.

She had a knack or weakness for laughing boisterously at her own anecdotes—not, I thought, because she found herself funny, but because she thought that life needed celebrating and wanted others to join in.

Wasted time in beautiful places, lingering joyfully just inside the gates of paradise with the world's colours aflame, always regretting the setting sun and the call home, the Edenic expulsion into the next day and its usual concerns.

This state of mind brings a contentment he never finds with any passive form of entertainment. Books, cinema, even music can't bring him to this. Working with others is one part of it, but it's not all. This benevolent dissociation seems to require difficulty, prolonged demands on concentration and skills, pressure, problems to be solved, even danger. He feels calm, and spacious, fully qualified to exist. It's a feeling of clarified emptiness, of deep, muted joy.