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I sometimes wonder whether all pleasures are not substitutes for joy.
I sometimes wonder whether all pleasures are not substitutes for joy.
Nothing I've ever done has given me more joys and rewards than being a father to my children.
Nothing I've ever done has given me more joys and rewards than being a father to my children.
Loving is a feeling that brings both joy and pain to my heart. Joy from being with you, being filled read more
Loving is a feeling that brings both joy and pain to my heart. Joy from being with you, being filled with an emotion so deep and tender that no other feeling can compare. Pain from knowing that I'm so in love, that I'm more vulnerable than I've ever
Joys too exquisite to last,
And yet more exquisite when past.
Joys too exquisite to last,
And yet more exquisite when past.
The excursion is the same when you go looking for your sorrow as when you go looking for your joy.
The excursion is the same when you go looking for your sorrow as when you go looking for your joy.
Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.
Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. read more
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
An infant when it gazes on a light,
A child the moment when it drains the breast,
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An infant when it gazes on a light,
A child the moment when it drains the breast,
A devotee when soars the Host in sight,
An Arab with a stranger for a guest,
A sailor when the prize has struck in fight,
A miser filling his most hoarded chest,
Feel rapture; but not such true joy are reaping
As they who watch o'er what they love while sleeping.
