Quotes About Joy

Every friendship has its own blessings.

Create wonderful memories of yourself with your friends.

Every friendship has its own birthday.

Friendship with children creates best friends in life.

Friendship with children is the best atmosphere in a home.

He looked up at the great grey peaks, some still topped by the remnants of the winter snow. He felt as close to happy as he ever got, the fittest he had been for a long time. His mind clear. Being in the mountains made him happy. He loved mountains. They were so much less trouble than people.

Shout for joy, you heavens; rejoice, you earth; burst into song, you mountains! For the LORD comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones." ISAIAH 49:13

The Stoics denied the concept of progress. There might be a little advance here, some improvement there—cosmology in their time, dentistry in ours—but in the long run the balance of things, such as good and evil, beauty and ugliness, joy and misery, remains constant.

The pleasures of acquisition are well known—says the thief, the former thief—but who ever mentions the quiet joy of letting things go?

Lord, I want to know You the best a man can know You. I want to please You the best a man can please You. Show me Your heart, reveal to me what is important to You, and show me what is not so important to You. Teach me Your ways and may my life bring joy to You . . .

From the introduction After all, the great joy of literature, as opposed to politics or religion, is that it embraces differing opinions, it encourages debate, it allows us to have heated conversations with our closes friends and dearest loved ones. And through it all, no one gets hurt, no one gets taken away from their homes, and no one gets killed.

Cyril, you remember Peter and Ruth, don't you?' she said. 'Of course' I replied. 'Happy Christmas. Nice to see you both again.' 'Happy Christmas to you,' said Peter, an enormous man bursting out of an extra-large shirt. 'And may the blessings of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior be with you on this momentous day.' 'Fair enough,' I said 'Hello, Ruth.

charm and attraction, and it is the core of their innocence. Children live in the now and are oriented to pleasure. They accept life's "queer conundrums

delight in good ideas.

A child's laughter is the greatest sound in the world. A child's laughter in a cornfield is the creepiest sound in the world. --

It's wonderful! Music in the house! Music in the heart! And music also in heaven, for joy that we are here!

Now, according to the strength or weakness of his faith in his Savior, so is his joy and peace, so is his love for holiness, so are his desires to know Him more and to serve Him more single-mindedly in this present world. But

Obstinate was curious and asked, "What are the things you are searching for that can't be found in this world?" "I'm searching for a joy that does not fade," replied Christian, "a secure inheritance in Heaven that cannot be corrupted and will be given at the appointed time to those who earnestly search for it." He held out the book in his hand. "Don't take my word for it. Read it in my book."11

There'll be no more crying, or sorrow; for the owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes.

Of all fears, they are best that are made by the blood of Christ; and of all joy, that is the sweetest that is mixed with mourning over Christ: Oh! it is a goodly thing to be on our knees, with Christ in our arms, before God: I hope I know something of these things.

At the top of the hill stood a cross and a little below at the bottom was a stone tomb. In my dream, just as Christian came up to the cross his burden loosened from his shoulders and fell off his back. It tumbled and continued to do so down the hill until it came to the mouth of the tomb where it fell inside and was seen no more. Christian was so glad and overjoyed and in his excitement he said, "He has given me rest by his sorrow and life by his death.

That they that sow in Tears shall reap in Joy, in singing. And he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his Sheaves with him.

He died at the house of one Mr Struddock, a grocer, at the Star on Snow Hill, in the parish of St Sepulchre's, London, on the 12th of August 1688, and in the sixtieth year of his age, after ten days' sickness; and was buried in the new burying place near the Artillery Ground; where he sleeps to the morning of the resurrection, in hopes of a glorious rising to an incorruptible immortality of joy and happiness;

The bitter must come before the sweet, and that also will make the sweet the sweeter.