Quotes About Joy

I'm giddy. Is this a dream? If so, let me never wake up.

I look at Peter's profile out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes I still can't believe he's mine. The handsomest boy of all the handsome boys is mine, all mine.

Why not take a chance and bet on happiness?

Peter never met a compliment he didn't smile at.

It's the little things that make up life.

Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders, Judy Blume, in bed by nine thirty.

When I was a kid, anytime I had to go anywhere, I ran.

And just like that, our little family grows bigger.

Nothing, nothing felt better than the way sand felt beneath my feet. It was both solid and shifting, constant and ever-changing. It was summer.

If you put ice cream on anything, it's good," Kitty says.

Maybe really, really good things aren't meant to last for too long; maybe that's what makes them all the more sweet, the temporariness of them.

I think the perfect high school night will end up being some random little nothing moment that you didn't plan or expect; it just happened.

I didn't realize anything was missing. Then came you.

you're a miracle. For that we have to celebrate.

When Daddy asks me what I want for Christmas, I am just going to say, 'Pick any one of these breeds and we'll be good.

But he's got a goofy smile on his face the entire time, and it only gets bigger when Trina puts her arm around his shoulder and makes him sway with her to the beat.

I wake up happy because it's the first day of school. I've always loved the first day of school better than the last day of school. Firsts are best because they are beginnings.

then the drinks start coming fast and furious, and people are shouting out song numbers for the queue.

Kitty's been a nervous bundle of energy all day; it's like her birthday and Christmas and first day of school combined.

our favorite part of the day. We're eating Popsicles, cherry ones. My shirt is sticking to my back, and my hands feel sugary and warm, but my lips are cool. The sun is turning that fiery pink I love, and I turn to Mark the way I always do. I look at him, really look

Peter is my cocoa in a cup, my red mittens, my Christmas morning feeling.

Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders,

I want to see the young people dance!

I'm feeling pretty euphoric at the moment.