Best 204 quotes in «joyful quotes» category

In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider.

In the face of life’s difficulties, let us ask the Lord for the strength to remain joyful witnesses to our faith.

Isn't joyful or painful this pain in which I rejoice

Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful

I think making a good film shot is joyful.

Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.

Life teaches you the art of letting go in every event. When you have learnt to let go, you will be joyful and as you start being joyful, more will be given to you.

Missionary work has never been easy, and yet the joyful rewards cannot be equaled by any other experience.

Mistakes are joyful, truth infernal.

Right now is the time for you to visualize and create your future. Make it as healthy and bright and joyful as you can. It's your life, and you're going to live it.

My music is about a joyful experience. I've learned that if you can affect other people, you should.

Not only do we cheat ourselves and those around us if we are only glum or always wary when it comes time to respond to divine stirrings. No, we are then also being simply unfaithful to the surrounding reality. The one who purges gloom has given occasions and reasons, in the midst of life's sadness, to be joyful.

Of all joyful, smiling, ever-laughing experiences, there are none like those which spring from true religion.

My childhood in the Soviet Union was not terrible, it was very joyful.

Sharing our meals should be a joyful and a trustful act, rather than the cursory fulfillment of our social obligations.

Salvation, O the joyful sound! 'Tis pleasure to our ears; A sov'reign balm for ev'ry wound, A cordial for our fears.

Take it upon yourself where you live to make people around you joyful and full of hope.

The aim of spiritual life is to awaken a joyful freedom, a benevolent and compassionate heart in spite of everything.

The more we allow ourselves to enjoy, the more reasons we find to be joyful.

There's going to be some joyful lifting for us if you will in terms of some of the tasks we have to do.

Therefore gird yourselves manfully and take up joyful arms for the name of God.

The world is terrified of joyful women. Make a stand. Be one anyway.

The very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.

Those whom fortune has never favored are more joyful than those whom she has deserted.

This is the most joyful day that ever I saw in my pilgrimage on earth.

To fully thrive, we must not only eliminate the stressors but also actively seek joyful, loving, fulfilling lives that stimulate growth processes

When I'm creatively solving problems, I'm in my sweet spot, and nothing can take me out of that joyful present.

When literature is discovered, a revelation occurs: the joyful, exultant knowledge that anything can happen.

When we feel joyful, euphoric, happy, we are more open to life, more capable of seeing things clearly and handling daily tensions.

When you live with an open heart, unexpected, joyful things happen

You can find the richness in any moment, even the most seemingly bleak. To try to do a movie about that was a joyful experience. So actually, it was really the context of it that made the experience so worthwhile, rather than the actual subject matter, if that makes sense.

Working with Roman Polanski is funny. It's like anything in life - someone warns you that something's going to be amazing or difficult or awful, and you say, "I can do that. I can cope with that." And then when you're in the middle of it, it may be joyful or tricky, but it's never difficult in the way you think it's going to be difficult.

Your life will be joyful and complete when you have a pure heart and your motives are unsullied.

A friend is he who can feel your heart's beating and dance with it when it is joyful, cry with it when it is torn, and inspire when it is in need.

A beautiful and joyful life can’t be created by following any principle or dogma or by following all the principles in a random manner. You have to learn the art of harmonising all the principles of happiness in a way that matches the rhythm of your life and creates happiness for you.

A day of birth is a joyful day.

A kind of northing is what I wish to accomplish, a single-minded trek towards that place where any shutter left open to the zenith at night will record the wheeling of all the sky’s stars as a pattern of perfect, concentric circles. I seek a reduction, a shedding, a sloughing off. At the seashore you often see a shell, or fragment of a shell, that sharp sands and surf have thinned to a wisp. There is no way you can tell what kind of shell it had been, what creature it had housed; it could have been a whelk or a scallop, a cowrie, limpet, or conch. The animal is long since dissolved, and its blood spread and thinned in the general sea. All you hold in your hand is a cool shred of shell, an inch long, pared so thin that it passes a faint pink light. It is an essence, a smooth condensation of the air, a curve. I long for the North where unimpeded winds would hone me to such a pure slip of bone. But I’ll not go northing this year. I’ll stalk that floating pole and frigid air by waiting here. I wait on bridges; I wait, struck, on forest paths and meadow’s fringes, hilltops and banksides, day in and day out, and I receive a southing as a gift. The North washes down the mountains like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, and pours across the valley; it comes to me. It sweetens the persimmons and numbs the last of the crickets and hornets; it fans the flames of the forest maples, bows the meadow’s seeded grasses and pokes it chilling fingers under the leaf litter, thrusting the springtails and the earthworms deeper into the earth. The sun heaves to the south by day, and at night wild Orion emerges looming like the Specter over Dead Man Mountain. Something is already here, and more is coming.

A joyful mind is a beautiful mind.

A joyful heart is an endless flowing stream.

A joyful life, life of contentment.

All at once, something wonderful happened, although at first, it seemed perfectly ordinary. A female goldfinch suddenly hove into view. She lighted weightlessly on the head of a bankside purple thistle and began emptying the seedcase, sowing the air with down. The lighted frame of my window filled. The down rose and spread in all directions, wafting over the dam’s waterfall and wavering between the tulip trunks and into the meadow. It vaulted towards the orchard in a puff; it hovered over the ripening pawpaw fruit and staggered up the steep faced terrace. It jerked, floated, rolled, veered, swayed. The thistle down faltered down toward the cottage and gusted clear to the woods; it rose and entered the shaggy arms of pecans. At last it strayed like snow, blind and sweet, into the pool of the creek upstream, and into the race of the creek over rocks down. It shuddered onto the tips of growing grasses, where it poised, light, still wracked by errant quivers. I was holding my breath. Is this where we live, I thought, in this place in this moment, with the air so light and wild? The same fixity that collapses stars and drives the mantis to devour her mate eased these creatures together before my eyes: the thick adept bill of the goldfinch, and the feathery coded down. How could anything be amiss? If I myself were lighter and frayed, I could ride these small winds, too, taking my chances, for the pleasure of being so purely played. The thistle is part of Adam’s curse. “Cursed is the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat of it; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee.” A terrible curse: But does the goldfinch eat thorny sorrow with the thistle or do I? If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom. I was weightless; my bones were taut skins blown with buoyant gas; it seemed that if I inhaled too deeply, my shoulders and head would waft off. Alleluia.

A joyful life,reaching out to people from all walks of life.

A thankful heart is the key to overflowing joy.

And under the cicadas, deeper down that the longest taproot, between and beneath the rounded black rocks and slanting slabs of sandstone in the earth, ground water is creeping. Ground water seeps and slides, across and down, across and down, leaking from here to there, minutely at a rate of a mile a year. What a tug of waters goes on! There are flings and pulls in every direction at every moment. The world is a wild wrestle under the grass; earth shall be moved. What else is going on right this minute while ground water creeps under my feet? The galaxy is careening in a slow, muffled widening. If a million solar systems are born every hour, then surely hundreds burst into being as I shift my weight to the other elbow. The sun’s surface is now exploding; other stars implode and vanish, heavy and black, out of sight. Meteorites are arcing to earth invisibly all day long. On the planet, the winds are blowing: the polar easterlies, the westerlies, the northeast and southeast trades. Somewhere, someone under full sail is becalmed, in the horse latitudes, in the doldrums; in the northland, a trapper is maddened, crazed, by the eerie scent of the chinook, the sweater, a wind that can melt two feet of snow in a day. The pampero blows, and the tramontane, and the Boro, sirocco, levanter, mistral. Lick a finger; feel the now. Spring is seeping north, towards me and away from me, at sixteen miles a day. Along estuary banks of tidal rivers all over the world, snails in black clusters like currants are gliding up and down the stems of reed and sedge, migrating every moment with the dip and swing of tides. Behind me, Tinker Mountain is eroding one thousandth of an inch a year. The sharks I saw are roving up and down the coast. If the sharks cease roving, if they still their twist and rest for a moment, they die. They need new water pushed into their gills; they need dance. Somewhere east of me, on another continent, it is sunset, and starlings in breathtaking bands are winding high in the sky to their evening roost. The mantis egg cases are tied to the mock-orange hedge; within each case, within each egg, cells elongate, narrow, and split; cells bubble and curve inward, align, harden or hollow or stretch. And where are you now?

As we plant in tears, we shall harvest with joy.

A true friend is one who can feel your heart beating and dance with it when it is joyful, cry with it when it is torn, and inspire you when you are in need.

All you need is what you have.

Amazing life, a joyful journey.

At a night like this, where it's just me and the yellow moon, I feel complete.

At the very crisis, when Satan seemed about to triumph, the Son of God came with the embassage of divine grace.