Man is the merriest, the most joyous of all the species of creation.—Above and below him all are serious.
Joy is more divine than sorrow, for joy is bread and sorrow is medicine.
Tranquil pleasures last the longest; we are not fitted to bear long the burden of great joys.
We lose the peace of years when we hunt after the rapture of moments.
We ask God to forgive us for our evil thoughts and evil temper, but rarely, if ever, ask him to forgive us for our sadness.
Poor human nature, so richly endowed with nerves of anguish, so splendidly organized for pain and sorrow, is but slenderly equipped for joy. . . . A sense of ineffable joy, attainable at will, and equal in intensity and duration to (let us say) an attack of sciatica, would go far to equalize the one-sided conditions under which we live.
Here below is not the land of happiness; it is only the land of toil; and every joy which comes to us is only to strengthen us for some greater labor that is to succeed.
Great joy, especially after a sudden change of circumstances, is apt to be ilent, and dwells rather in the heart than on the tongue.
Those who can not feel pain are not capable, either, of feeling joy.
He who can conceal his joys is greater than he who can hide his griefs.
To pursue joy is to lose it. The only way to get it is to follow steadily the path of duty, without thinking of joy, and then, like sheep, it comes most surely unsought, and we "being in the way," the angel of God, bright-haired joy, is sure to meet us.
The most profound joy has more of gravity than of gaiety in it.
The joy resulting from the diffusion of blessings to all around us is the purest and sublimest that can ever enter the human mind, and can be conceived only by those who have experienced it. Next to the consolations of divine grace, it is the most sovereign balm to the miseries of life, both in him who is the object of it, and in him who exercises it.
Joys are our wings; sorrows our spurs.
We can do nothing well without joy, and a good conscience which is the round of joy.
The very society of joy redoubles it; so that, while it lights upon my friend it rebounds upon myself, and the brighter his candle burns the more easily will it light mine.
There is a sweet joy that comes to us through sorrow.