Quotes About Elation

Janelle did a tiny squee. It was an actual squee, a real one.

They deserved a victory lap, I thought to myself, a moment of pure elation. Which is why, even as I quieted the crowd and dove into my speech, I didn't have the heart to correct those well-meaning chanters—to remind them that in the year 2008, with the Confederate flag and all it stood for still hanging in front of a state capitol just a few blocks away, race still mattered plenty, as much as they might want to believe otherwise.

Enjoyment while performing was rare—enjoyment would have been an indulgent loss of focus that comedy cannot afford. After the shows, however, I experienced long hours of elation or misery depending on how the show went, because doing comedy alone onstage is the ego's last stand.

Joy is the highest expression of love.

We could not be happier.

dizzy with joy.

There's nothing that can replace the feeling of winning.

It's incredible how many emotions you feel when crossing the finish line and seeing that you are No. 1.

Fun, like champagne bubbles, can't completely fill you up.

Her smile shames the sun

I didn't know that the world could be so mind-blowingly beautiful.

I'm presently peeing from the delight from seeing you again).

together, almost out of their minds with excitement

Love exalts as much as glory does.

Everyone longs for love's tense joys and red delights.

It is Love that gives joy to happiness.

As you pass through bhakti yoga, as you pass through love, you're elated. You're fulfilled and you're joyous.

All we really want is love's confusing joy.

Love and happiness is a great match.

Genevieve burst into laughter and hugged him fiercely, because otherwise she would cry. Not because she was unhappy but because joy crowded every inch of her heart and soul. She was about to burst with it.

Her mind exploded with whoa and what the fuck and oh, yes please.

feels so damn good?

I'm now writing out of rage — and I feel a kind of Nietzschean elation. It's tonic. I roar with laughter. I want to denounce everybody, tell everybody off. I go to my typewriter as I might go to my machine gun. But I'm safe. I don't have to face the consequences of 'real' aggressivity. I'm sending out colis piégés ['booby-trapped packages'] to the world.

Nothing can match the elation of the chronically melancholy when joy arrives. But before being allowed to arrive, it must lay siege to the weary heart. Let me in, it mews, it bellows. The heart must be forced.