Quotes About Joy

I should not be able to make any one understand how exciting it all was. You know that kind of quiver that trembles around through you when you are seeing something so strange and enchanting and wonderful that it is just a fearful joy to be alive and look at it; and you know how you gaze, and your lips turn dry and your breath comes short, but you wouldn't be anywhere but there, not for the world.

The poorest paid architect, engineer, general, author, sculptor, painter, lecturer, advocate, legislator, actor, preacher, singer is constructively in heaven when he is at work; and as for the musician with the fiddle-bow in his hand who sits in the midst of a great orchestra with the ebbing and flowing tides of divine sound washing over him--why, certainly, he is at work, if you wish to call it that, but lord, it's a sarcasm just the same.

The world is beautiful and dangerous, and joyful and said, and ungrateful and giving, and full of so, so many things. The world is new and it is old. It is big and it is small. The world is fierce and it is kind, and we, every one us, are in it.

teria compreendido então que Trabalho consiste em tudo o que se é obrigado a fazer e que Prazer consiste naquilo que não se é obrigado a fazer.

SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh

Oh, no, Misto C –, I hadn't had no trouble. An' no joy!

Ljudska vrsta ima samo jedno zaista delotvorno oružje, a to je osmeh. Kada osmeh krene u napad ništa mu ne može odoleti.

Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile.

Mr. Young observed that life was a sad, sad thing — "because the joy of every new marriage a man contracted was so apt to be blighted by the inopportune funeral of a less recent bride.

the old man laughed loud and joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot, and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket, because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything.

The secret source of humour itself is not joy, but sorrow. There is no humour in heaven.

It was fun, scurrying around the breezy hills and through the beautiful canyons. There was that rare thing, novelty, about it; it was a fresh, new, exhilarating sensation, this donkey riding, and worth a hundred worn and threadbare home pleasures.

I begin to see that a man's got to be in his own Heaven to be happy." "Perfectly correct," says he.  "Did you imagine the same heaven would suit all sorts of men?

Había una canción en todos los corazones; y si el corazón era joven, la canción asomaba a los labios.

SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life.

his own dread name I command it—BGWJJILLIGKKK!" Then I touched off the hogshead of rockets, and a vast fountain of dazzling lances of fire vomited itself toward the zenith with a hissing rush, and burst in mid-sky into a storm of flashing jewels! One mighty groan of terror started up from the massed people—then suddenly broke into a wild hosannah of joy—for there, fair and plain in the uncanny glare, they saw the freed water leaping forth!

As long as you're in your right mind don't you ever pray for twins. Twins amount to a permanent riot. And there

The world is beautiful and dangerous, and joyful and sad, and ungrateful and giving, and full of so, so many things. The world is new and it is old. It is big and it is small. The world is fierce and it is kind, and we, every one of us, are in it.

But my biggest joy and best education and proudest achievement has been being able to show up for work and life and not cause too much trouble a day at a time in spite of my hysterical, somewhat dramatic, nature.

Which in the gray of gentler eyes will prove far more than any of us could ever need; 'enough' we will shout, 'enough!' our bellies full, our hearts full, our ages full; fullness and greater fullness and even more fullness; how then we will laugh and forget how imagining has already left us.

I like that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writing—that words can be used in a way that's like a child playing in a sandpit, rearranging things, swapping them around. They're the best moments in a day of writing—when an image appears that you didn't know would be there when you started work in the morning.

Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?

You cannot be afraid, Read the book. Smile at it. It's a great book-the greatest book you've ever read.

there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness, too. That was writing.