Quotes About Joy

I will write, she had said, what I enjoy writing.

La bellezza del mondo ha due tagli, uno di gioia, l'altro d'angoscia, e taglia in due il cuore.

And are you in love? And are you happy? And do you sometimes write a poem? And have you had your hair cut? And have you met anybody of such beauty your eyes dance, as the waves danced

In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.

Youth so apt for pleasure that pleasure, one thought, must exist

And of course she enjoyed life immensely. It was her nature to enjoy. Anyhow there was not bitterness in her; none of that sense of moral virtue which is so repulsive in good women. She enjoyed practically everything. If you walked with her in Hyde Park now it was a bed of tulips, now a child in a perambulator, now some absurd little drama she made up on the spur of the moment.

But the noise! she said. The noise! The sign of a successful party.

Extraño; increíble; nunca había sido tan feliz. Nada parecía tener la suficiente lentitud; nada podía durar demasiado.

I want to write nothing in this book that I don't enjoy writing. Yet writing is always difficult.

Joy's life in the doing (..) I mean it's the writing, not the being read that excites me.

What she liked was simply life.

What they were all afraid of saying, was that happiness is dirt cheap. You can have it for nothing. Beauty.

O amor, para ele, não passara de cinzas e serragem. As alegrias que dele extraíra não tinham gosto nenhum.

Far away a bell tolls, but not for death. There are bells that ring for life. A leaf falls, from joy. Oh, I am in love with life!

What she liked was simply life. 'That's what I do it for', she said, speaking aloud, to life.

Stepping through fields of flowers and taking to her brest buds that had broken and lambs that had fallen; with the stars in her eyes and wind in her hair– he took her bag.

Literature and butterflies are the two sweetest passions known to man.

My little cup brims with tiddles.

I grew, a happy, healthy child in a bright world of illustrated books, clean sand, orange trees, friendly dogs, sea vistas and smiling faces.

It is certainly not then—not in dreams—but when one is wide awake, in moments of robust joy and achievement, on the highest terrace of consciousness, that mortality has a chance to peer beyond its own limits, from the mast, from the past and its castle tower. And although nothing much can be seen through the mist, there is somehow the blissful feeling that one is looking in the right direction.

When you laugh, I want to transform the entire world so it will mirror you.

They say that suffering is a good school. Yes, true. But happiness is the best university.

After all, there is no harm in smiling.

I am just winking happy thoughts into a little tiddle cup.