What joy can the years bring half so sweet as the unhappiness they've taken away?
The soul's joy lies in doing.
It is a fine seasoning for joy to think of those we love.
Happiness is enjoyed only in proportion as it is known; and such is the state or folly of man, that it is known only by experience of its contrary.
I know the joy of fishes in the river through my own joy, as I go walking along the same river.
Always remember, joy is not incidental to spiritual quest. It is vital.
There's a hope for every woe, and a balm for every pain, but the first joys of our heart come never back again!
The Spirit bears witness. Ecstasy and enlightenment, inspiration and intuition are not necessary. Happy is the man who is worthy of these; but woe unto us if we wait for such experiences; woe unto us if we do not perceive that these things are of secondary importance.
Not joy is the mother of dissipation, but joylessness.
To be full of joy when looking at an oeuvre is not a little thing.
Cultivate your garden Do not depend upon teachers to educate you follow your own bent, pursue your curiosity bravely, express yourself, make your own harmony In the end, education, like happiness, is individual, and must come to us from life and from ourselves. There is no way; each pilgrim must make his own path. "Happiness," said Chamfort, "is not easily won; it is hard to find it in ourselves, and impossible to find it elsewhere.
I do not presume to explain how to paint, but only how to get enjoyment.
Every intensification is good, if it is in your entire blood, if it isn't intoxication or muddiness, but joy which you can see into, clear to the bottom.
And this is the way a novel gets written, in ignorance, fear, sorrow, madness, and a kind of psychotic happiness as an incubator for the wonders being born.
I was always aware, reading Chesterton, that there was someone writing this who rejoiced in words, who deployed them on the page as an artist deploys his paints upon his palette. Behind every Chesterton sentence there was someone painting with words, and it seemed to me that at the end of any particularly good sentence or any perfectly-put paradox, you could hear the author, somewhere behind the scenes, giggling with delight.
He that would be a painter must have a natural turn thereto. Love and delight therein are better of the Art of Painting than compulsion.
The quietest poetry can be an explosion of joy.
The life that I have chosen gives me my full hours of enjoyment.
I buy art in order to live with it at home or in the office, never to store it away in a vault. In fact, living with art has been one of the great joys of my life. It is a private pleasure, however, and not one that I have an urge to inflict on other people.
I get my highs from using my eyes.
The real joy is in discovering that the twigs and branches of my practice are all firmly rooted in a single tree, even as time goes by and I become increasingly aware of the fleetingness of all things.
Each killing steals a bit of humanity until a murderer is nothing more than an animal. A hunger replaces the spirit. A want for what was lost, but as with innocence, the soul can never be replaced. Joy, love, and peace flee such a vessel and in their stead blooms a desire for blood and death.
They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.
Seek not to know what must not be reveal, for joy only flows where fate is most concealed. A busy person would find their sorrows much more; if future fortunes were known before!
At the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.
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