The aftermath of joy is not usually more joy.
Joy goes as deep as sorrow, but leaves less of itself behind.
Energy falls just short of being joy.
I do not remember joy or sorrow in childhood, but listening for clues.
Loving, not the beloved, is the joy of love. The beloved, knowing this, most resolutely declines to be grateful.
Many pains are imaginary, but all joys are real.
Suffering teaches us only that we suffer. Joy shows us which way to go.
Every parent can imagine the joys of child abuse.
I wish you joy of your unhappiness, since you cling to it so.
As night falls, every joy glows brighter.
Frivolous sorrow is folly. Frivolous enjoyment is not.
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