Happiness Quotes
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Most success springs from an obstacle or failure. I became a cartoonist largely because I failed in my goal of becoming a successful executive.
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Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.
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Men's happiness or misery is [for the] most part of their own making.
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A really great talent finds its happiness in execution.
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I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad and to travel for it too!
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When I’m creating at the piano, I tend to feel happy;but - the eternal dilemma - how can we be happy amid the unhappines, of other? I’d do everything I could to give everyone a moment of happines. That’s what’s at the heart of my music.
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One should not seek happiness, but rather happy people.
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Happiness is above all things the calm, glad certainty of innocence.
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Maybe increasing the aggregate level of happiness in the world is one way to try and hold back the crash.
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There was once in man a true happiness of which there now remain to him only the mark and empty trace, which he in vain tries to fill from all his surroundings, seeking from things absent the help he does not obtain in things present.
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Kindnessis giving others happiness. Compassionis removing others' bitterness. Joyis freeing others from suffering.
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I only study the things I like; I apply my mind only to matters that interest me. They'll be useful-or useless-to me or to others in due course, I'll be given-or not given-the opportunity of benefiting from what I've learned. In any case, I'll have enjoyed the inestimable advantage of doing things I like doing and following my own inclinations.
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If envy is red and doubt is black then happiness is brown. I looked from the little brown stone to the tiny brown freckle to her huge brown eyes.
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There is nothing simple or dull in achieving the transparent page. Vulgar ostentation is twice as easy as discipline. When you realise that ugly typography never effaces itself, you will be able to capture beauty as the wise men capture happiness by aiming at something else.
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Ask not of me, love, what is love? Ask what is good of God above; Ask of the great sun what is light; Ask what is darkness of the night; Ask sin of what may be forgiven; Ask what is happiness of heaven; Ask what is folly of the crowd; Ask what is fashion of the shroud; Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss; Ask of thyself what beauty is.
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I began reading cook books when I was six, cause my father had hundreds of cook books in the kitchen. I was obsessed with cooking and tasting different recipes. I got lost in being a compulsive eater. It brought me much happiness. Sadness too, sure. But I have to say, and compulsive eaters will agree with me, for that few seconds that you're eating, food tastes just great.
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The attitude of unhappiness is not only painful, it is mean and ugly. What can be more base and unworthy than the pining, puling, mumping mood, no matter by what outward ills it may have been engendered? What is more injurious to others? What less helpful as a way out of the difficulty? It but fastens and perpetuates the trouble which occasioned it, and increases the total evil of the situation. At all costs, then, we ought to reduce the sway of that mood; we ought to scout it in ourselves and others, and never show it tolerance.
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Happiness is a journey rather than a destination.
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Happiness lies in a large measure of self-forgetfulness, either in work . . . or in the love of others.
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I guess I just process death differently than some folks. Realizing you're not going to see that person again is always the most difficult part about it. But that feeling settles, and then you are glad you had that person in your life, and then the happiness and the sadness get all swirled up inside you.
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Happiness mainly depends on man's ability to work and the way in which he does it.
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I feel like any other Brazilian citizen, I have a lot of happiness in me. I thank God for showing me the path to follow.
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All natural happiness thus seems infected with a contradiction. The breath of the sepulchre surrounds it.
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But Golden's dark form in the doorway had imprinted something new and painful on the hard plates of her chest: that old devil, hope. The kind of hope that abandons you in your worst moments and is suddenly there again, weeks later, trailing you like the stubborn, slinking dog who will not take no for an answer. The kind of greedy hope that tricks you into believing that at least some of the things taken from you might be restored, that after everything, you might find your way back to something like happiness.
