Joy Quotes - Page 92

What matters poverty? What matters anything to him who is enamoured of our art? Does he not carry in himself every joy and every beauty?

If I was dead, I wouldn't know I was dead. That's the only thing I have against death. I want to enjoy my death.

Enraging liberals is simply one of the more enjoyable side effects of my wisdom.

The unseen presence keeps saying to us, ‘You are Joy!’

I will find new meaning in every joy and sorrow.

All times are beautiful for those who maintain joy within them; but there is no happy or favorable time for those with disconsolate or orphaned souls.

Life would be very pleasant if it were not for its enjoyments.

I would be more familiar with Janet Jackson than I was with the Teardrop Explodes or Joy Division, because I didn't want to listen to my competitors for fear of nicking ideas off them.

We live in an ascending scale when we live happily, one thing leading to another in an endless series.

Enjoy the time you have with your friends & family. That doesn't mean spend money you don't have on them. It means enjoy your time with them.

All real works of art look as though they were done in joy.

For life, with all its yields of joy and woe Is just a chance o' the prize of learning love.

Only do the thing we are best at doing and enjoy most.

I think the source of our sorrow and the source of our joy are intimately entwined. Our sorrow is that we have forgotten who we are, we have forgotten we are one with that source of all life - absolutely indestructible, perfect, joyful. The source of our joy is when we remember that.

What is funny about us is precisely that we take ourselves too seriously.

It's sad that grandkids show up at the end of obituaries, way behind the list of work place achievements, social clubs and survivors. Why last? If you've got grandkids, you know they're first when it comes to the joy in your life.

These people are like ... a frog living in a well, who has never seen the outside world. He knows only his well, so he will not believe that there is such a thing as the world. Likewise, people talk so much about the world because they have not known the joy of God.

Must we always talk for victory, and never once for truth, for comfort, and joy?

Promise me you’ll marry me. Not now. Someday. Because I need to know.” Claire felt a flutter inside, like a bird trying to fly, and a rush of heat that made her dizzy. And something else, something fragile as a soap bubble, and just as beautiful. Joy, in the middle of all this horror and heartbreak. “Yes,” she whispered back. “I promise.” And she kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, while the sun came up and bathed Morganville in one last, shining day.

Poems On Love Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward joy by outward beauty. Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom. Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it. Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

Things in which we do not take joy are either a burden upon our minds to be got rid of at any cost; or they are useful, and therefore in temporary and partial relation to us, becoming burdensome when their utility is lost; or they are like wandering vagabonds, loitering for a moment on the outskirts of our recognition, and then passing on. A thing is only completely our own when it is a thing of joy to us.

And here we must narrowly watch ourselves, seeing that banquets can scarcely be celebrated blamelessly, for almost always luxury accompanies feasting; and when the body is swallowed up in the delight of refreshing itself, the heart relaxes to empty joys.

We never taste a perfect joy; our happiest successes are mixed with sadness.

I believed even then that if I could transform my experience into poetry I would give it the value and dignity it did not begin to possess on its own. I thought too that if I could write about it I could come to understand it; I believed that if I could understand my life—or at least the part my work played in it—I could embrace it with some degree of joy, an element conspicuously missing from my life.

How do we cultivate the conditions for joy to expand? We train in staying present.