Quotes About Joy

He stood a few meters from the step and spoke with great conviction, great joy. Alles ist Scheisse, he announced. All is shit.

Our footsteps run, and I don't want them to end. I want to run and laugh and feel like this forever. I want to avoid any awkward moment when the realness of reality sticks its fork into our flesh, leaving us standing there, together. I want to stay here, in this moment, and never go to other places, where we don't know what to say or what to do.

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.

We both laugh and run and the moment is so thick around me that i feel like dropping into it to let it carry me.

Handfuls of frosty water can make almost anyone smile, but it cannot make them forget.

you need life in your life.

But when they laugh, you can see the world in their eyes.

There was guilt for enjoying anything. Especially the joy of forgetting.

Those kids, they would've loved this place, they would've walked and skipped and danced here, all legs and sunny hair. They'd have cartwheeled the lawn, shouting, And don't go lookin' at our knickers, right?

Whenever they had a break, to eat or drink, he would play the accordion, and it was this that Liesel remembered best. Each morning, while Papa pushed or dragged the paint cart, Liesel carried the instrument. Better that we leave the paint behind, Hans told her, than ever forget the music.

There was the odd suburban thunderbolt, but they were mostly those people who'd found each other; they were golden and bright-lit and funny. Often they seemed in cahoots somehow, like jailbirds who wouldn't leave; they loved us, they liked us, and that was a pretty good trick.

I vacation in increments. In colors.

Highlight: "Arschloch!" Papa yelped. "Liesel, give me some of that snow. A whole bucket!" For a few minutes, they all forgot. There was no more yelling or calling out, but they could not contain the small snatches of laughter. They were only humans, playing in the snow, in a house.

Si hubiera podido ver arrodillada a la ladrona de libros junto a su cuerpo diezmado, habría gritado de alegría y girado sobre sí mismo y sonreído. Le habría encantado contemplarla besándole los polvorientos labios devastados por las bombas. Sí, lo sé. En la profunda oscuridad de mi corazón de siniestros latidos, lo sé. Le habría gustado, sin duda. ¿Lo ves? Hasta la muerte tiene corazón.

Eleven-year-old paranoia was powerful. Eleven-year-old relief was euphoric.

La alegría le mostraría el camino al sufrimiento.

A few of them performed the beautiful childhood art of snickering.

I laugh and the stars watch.

Ayak seslerimiz yank?lan?yordu ve bitmesini istemiyordum. KoÅŸmak, gülmek ve sonsuza dek böyle hissetmek istiyordum. Yapt???m?z ÅŸeyin gerçekliÄŸi etimize saplan?p bizi durdurduÄŸunda herhangi bir huzursuzluk yaÅŸamak istemiyordum. Orada, o anda kalmak, ne diyeceÄŸimizi veya ne yapaca??m?z? bilmediÄŸimiz baÅŸka yerlere gitmemek istiyordum.

As the kids dance around the front yard under the night sky and the lights, I see something. Lua and Marie are holding hands. They look like they're so happy, just inside this moment, watching the kids and the lights on their old fibro house. Lua kisses her. Just softly on the lips. And she kisses back. Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.

when they laugh, you can see the world in their eyes.

Descarada y alegre, una trilogía de felicidad avanzaría con el verano y se adentraría en el otoño. Sin embargo, algo le pondría un brusco final. La alegría le mostraría el camino al sufrimiento.

At first, I'd wanted to write Merry Christmas on the box somewhere, but I decide against it. This isn't about words. It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.

Con un sorriso così, non hai bisogno di occhi.