Quotes About Joy

I wish you all the joy that you can wish.

Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare; It is enough I may but call her mine.

My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must Not unaccompanied invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers. From hence to Inverness

The blessedness of being little!!!

Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

my heart is wondrous light, Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.

Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, and, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.

And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbours air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagined happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Make the upcoming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.

How much better to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!

Sound drums and trumpets! Farewell sour annoy! For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast!

But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

I profess myself an enemy to all other joys, which the most precious square of sense possesses, and find I am alone felicitate in your dear highness love.

Invinge durerea, razi cat se poate, caci tot la zi ajunge si cea mai lunga noapte...

Now my soul's palace is become a prison; Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest! For never henceforth shall I joy again, Never, O never, shall I see more joy!

I think he would not wish himself anywhere but where he is.

keep eternal springtime on thy face

Give me some music! Now, good morrow, friends!

Say, what abridgement have you for this evening? What masque, what music? How shall we beguile The lazy time if not with some delight?

that gratitude for life came from being happy

He who lives not in time, but in the present, is happy. —LUDWIG VON WITTGENSTEIN

Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.