Quotes About Delight

Chocolate and coffee ? Together ? Whoever came up with that combination should have won a Nobel Peace Prize. Or at least a subscription to Reader's Digest.

As a result of a kiss, there arises in the mind a wonderful feeling of delight that awakens and binds together the love of them that kiss.

Good bread and good butter go together. They are one of the perfect marriages in gastronomy, and they never fail to cheer me.

No one could have prepared for me BBQ on pizza. I mean, both are great. But together? It was incredible.

I could not possibly have imagined anything more wonderful if I had tried.

It is sometimes too delicious to hear evil of a person one has despised for many years.

was, licking

Joy, it is, which I've never known before, only pleasure or excitement. Joy is a different thing, because its focus exists outside the self – delight in something external, not satisfaction of some inner craving.

Joy, it is, which I've never known before, only pleasure or excitement. Joy is a different thing, because its focus exists outside the self-delight in something external, not satisfaction of some inner craving.

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. It was what I was born for– to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world (from, 'Mindful')

Joy is not made to be a crumb. (Don't Hesitate)

Stepping out into the world, into the grass, onto the path, was always a kind of relief. I was not escaping anything. I was returning to the arena of delight.

and also I am the leaves and the blossoms, and, like them, I am full of delight, and shaking.

Is the tree as it rises delighted with its many branches, each one like a poem? Are the clouds glad to unburden their bundles of rain? Most of the world says no, no, it's not possible. I refuse to think to such a conclusion. Too terrible it would be, to be wrong.

Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside, looking into the shining world? Because, properly attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion. — Mary Oliver, from "What I Have Learned So Far," New and Selected Poems . (Beacon Press; Reprint, 2001 edition July 1, 1993)

For hours I wandered over the fields and the only thing that kept me company was a song, it glided along with my delicious dark happiness, my heavy, bristling and aching delight at the world which has been like this forever and forever— the leaves, the birds, the ponds, the loneliness

I would take delight in the optical non sequitur of a bear standing in front of a Louis Vuitton boutique. This poor goober with the burrata on its snout, innocent and utterly unaware of its likely fate, makes me want to cry.

I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight.

What is the world, except that which we feel? Love, and hope, and delight, or sorrow and tears; these are our lives, our realities, to which we give the names of power, possession, misfortune, and death.

allow me now to return to the cottagers, whose story excited in me such various feelings of indignation, delight, and wonder, but which all terminated in additional love and reverence for my protectors (for so I loved, in an innocent, half painful self-deceit, to call them).

The best words in the best order...one always go the same shock of recognition and delight when someone's words swam up to meet a thought or name a picture. Poetry was awful good material to think with.

One always got the same shock of recognition and delight when someone's words swam up to meet a thought or name a picture.

This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my day dreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is for ever visible; its broad disk just skirting the horizon, and diffusing a perpetual splendour