Full from the fount of Joy's delicious springs
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom springs.
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Full from the fount of Joy's delicious springs
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom springs.
[Lat., Medio de fonte leporum
Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.]

Cheerfulness is the very flower of health.

Cheerfulness is the very flower of health.

How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone;
But those which soonest read more

How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone;
But those which soonest take their flight
Are the most exquisite and strong;
Like angel's visits short and bright,
Mortality's too weak to bear them long.

Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.

Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.

Our joy is dead, and only smiles on us.

Our joy is dead, and only smiles on us.

It is only in sorrow bad weather masters us; in joy we face the storm and defy it.

It is only in sorrow bad weather masters us; in joy we face the storm and defy it.

This is the true joy of life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty read more

This is the true joy of life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clot of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. . -George Bernard Shaw.

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.

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.