Happy For Him Quotes & Sayings

Lincoln," Sam had asked him on one of those nights, the summer before their senior year, "do you think we'll get married some day?"
"I hope so," he'd whispered. He didn't usually think about it like that, like "married." He thought about how he never wanted to be without her. About how happy she made him and how he wanted to go on being that happy for the rest of his life. If a wedding could promise him that, he definitely wanted to get married.
"Wouldn't it be romantic," she said, "to marry your high school sweetheart? When people ask us how we met I'll say, 'We met in high school. I saw him, and I just knew.' And they'll say, 'Didn't you
ever wonder what it would be like to be with someone else? — Rainbow Rowell

And it was the din of all these hollow-sounding voices that made him halt irresolutely in the pursuit of phantoms. He gave them ear only for a time but he was happy only when he was far from them, beyond their call, alone or in the company of phantasmal comrades. — James Joyce

Watch over our child. Guide him safely from the ways of harm.
Keep happy his heart, brave his soul, and rosy his cheeks.
Guard with your life his hopes and dreams,
for he is all that we have, all that we are,
and all that we will ever be. — William Joyce

For the one who 'enjoys' (worldly) happiness, there will come a time for him to endure sorrow. — Dada Bhagwan

I was astonished to see Adrian watching me, a look of contentment on his face. His eyes seemed to study my every feature. Seeing me notice him, he immediately looked away. His usual smirky expression replaced by a dreamy one.
"The mechanic will wait," he said.
"Yeah, but I'm supposed to meet Brayden soon, I'll be-" That's when I got a good look at Adrian. "What have you done? Look at you! You shouldn't be out here."
"It's not that bad."
He was lying, and we both knew it.
"Come on, we have to get you out of here before you get worse. What were you thinking?"
His expression was astonishingly nonchalant for someone who looked like he would pass out. "It was worth it. You looked ... happy — Richelle Mead

You'd be happy to leave him if it weren't for her," Isabelle said, managing to inject the single syllable word with enough venom to poison an elephant. — Cassandra Clare

Thanks, Tink, for being a good brother to me," I say, misting up a bit. "She's a fine girl, and I just know you'll be very happy together." I give him a kiss on the cheek.
"The Brotherhood forever, Jacky," is what he softly says in return, encircling me in his warm embrace. "Forever. — L.A. Meyer

It is easy in retrospect to see why he'd want to go. There are two women who are furious at him. To make one happy, he must take the subway across town and arrive on her doorstep. To make the other happy, he must wear for some infinitely long period of time a hair shirt woven out of her own hair. — Jenny Offill

Our strength consists in our speed and in our brutality. Genghis Khan led millions of women and children to slaughter - with premeditation and a happy heart. History sees in him solely the founder of a state. It's a matter of indifference to me what a weak western European civilization will say about me. I have issued the command - and I'll have anybody who utters but one word of criticism executed by a firing squad - that our war aim does not consist in reaching certain lines, but in the physical destruction of the enemy. Accordingly, I have placed my death-head formation in readiness - for the present only in the East - with orders to them to send to death mercilessly and without compassion, men, women, and children of Polish derivation and language. Only thus shall we gain the living space (Lebensraum) which we need. Who, after all, speaks to-day of the annihilation of the Armenians? — Adolf Hitler

I wish we may learn from all our changes, to be sober and watchful, not to rest in grace received, in experience or comforts, but still to be pressing forward, and never think ourselves either safe or happy, but when we are beholding the glory of Christ by the light of faith in the glass of the Gospel. To view him as God manifest in the flesh, as all in all in himself, and all in all for us; this is cheering, this is strengthening, this makes hard things easy, and bitter things sweet. This includes all I can wish for my dear friends, that you may grow in grace, and in the knowledge of Jesus. To know him, is the shortest description of true grace; to know him better, is the surest mark of growth in grace; to know him perfectly, is eternal life. This is the prize of our high calling; the sum and substance of all we can desire or hope for is, to see him as he is, and to be like him: and to this honor and happiness he will surely bring all that love his name.81 — Tony Reinke

And that's another thing. What if I were to talk to Tanker, find out if he's happy at the Polonius Room, see if maybe he wants to come back? He was always such a key part of this kitchen."
Rickey pointed a chocolate-smudged finger at Lenny. "Don't you dare. If I decide I want to talk to him, I'll talk to him. I told you, I don't need you handling my business for me."
"I understand," Lenny said, making a mental note to call Tanker. — Poppy Z. Brite

I'm very pleased to be offered the job. I would love to work here, and I think I have a lot of to contribute. But I was hoping for $60,000." (That number allows him to find something in the middle that could still make you happy.) Then sit there with your lips tightly zipped. There's a more-than-decent chance that the person will make a counteroffer. If he says, "I can do that," great. If he offers $53,000, give it one more try. Say, "Is there any chance you can do a bit better?" He may say he'll have to get back to you. Remind him you'd love the job and tough it out (a frozen margarita that night can help!). When he comes back with $55,000 the next day, it will all be worth it. And if they insist you name a number? Be both realistic but generous to yourself, and add that you're open to discussion. — Kate White

You can't change other people. You can only change yourself. Everyone's got problems. You learn from them, you live with them, you move on. It's choice you make if you want to have a happy life. Nobody's perfect. People are different and that's what makes them so interesting. You only get one father. The quicker you accept him for who he is, the better your life will be. Your father is who he is. Nobody can change that. Find your self esteem from the inside. — Lorraine Bracco

But just exactly what is the "good" to which we aspire through doing and eating things that are supposed to be good for us? This question is strictly taboo, for if it were seriously investigated the whole economy and social order would fall apart and have to be reorganized. It would be like the donkey finding out that the carrot dangled before him, to make him run, is hitched by a stick to his own collar.
For the good to which we aspire exists only and always in the future. Because we cannot relate to the sensuous and material present we are most happy when good things are expected to happen, not when they are happening. We get such a kick out of looking forward to pleasures and rushing ahead to meet them that we can't slow down enough to enjoy them when they come. We are therefore a civilization which suffers from chronic disappointment - a formidable swarm of spoiled children smashing their toys. — Alan W. Watts

Sarah turned her narrow-eyed gaze on him, making me glad once more that Antimony's comic books got it wrong, and telepaths can't actually kill you with their brains. Give you a whopping headache and earworm you with annoying jingles, yes; kill you, no. (Although sometimes, when she's managed to stick "The Happy Banana Song" in my head for a week, I sort of wish she could kill people with her brain. It would be kinder.) — Seanan McGuire

Because she had always been happy, she wanted everyone about her to be happy or, at least, pleased with themselves. To this end, she always saw the best in everyone and remarked kindly upon it. There was no servant so stupid that she did not find some redeeming trait of loyalty and kind-heartedness, no girl so ugly and disagreeable that she could not discover grace of form or nobility of character in her, and no man so worthless or so boring that she did not view him in the light of his possibilities rather than his actualities. Because of these qualities that came sincerely and spontaneously from a generous heart, everyone flocked about her, for who can resist the charm of one who discovers in others admirable qualities undreamed of even by himself? — Margaret Mitchell

Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally "bright", did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal. Each man the image of every other; then all are happy, for there are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves against. So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. — Ray Bradbury

When she looked up and saw him observing her every move, she asked, "What's up?"
He smiled. "Just happy."
"How come?"
"Well, for starters ... I saw a beautiful sunset last night, stole a kiss from a pretty lady, and laid awake and listened to the ocean waves from my window." He shrugged. "You know. Just the typical stuff that makes a man happy. — Linda Weaver Clarke

It was then that I came to an important realization:as long as someone is beautiful,thin,wealthy,fun-loving or talented,we are happy to accept him or her at face value.We are not ever taught to look for-or care about-what lies beneath the surface. — Na'ima B. Robert

Josh stared at Kate. She was watching the happy couple, smiling. The warm spring breeze caught her hair and ruffled it like a shining curtain in an open window. It also caught her dress, flipping up the front and giving him an eyeful of long, slender thigh. He could remember planting kisses up that thigh, listening to her sighs as he refused to stop there. She looked ravishing, and all of a sudden he felt a surge of naughtiness, like a schoolboy passing an open box of sweets.

He walked up to her, holding a handful of confetti. Slowly he pulled the front of her dress forward and stuffed the paper in the bodice, his fingers lingering against her warm, slightly damp skin. Then he patted the red satin carefully flat. Probably for slightly longer than was necessary. — Serenity Woods

Anne was now at hand to take up her own cause, and the sincerity of her manner being soon sufficient to convince him, where conviction was at least very agreeable, he had no farther scruples as to her being left to dine alone, though he still wanted her to join them in the evening, when the child might be at rest for the night, and kindly urged her to let him come and fetch her; but she was quite unpersuadable and this being the case, she had ere long the pleasure of seeing them set off together in high spirits. They were gone, she hoped, to be happy, however oddly constructed such happiness might seem; as for herself, she was left with as many sensations of comfort, as were, perhaps ever likely to be hers. She knew herself to be of the first utility to the child; and what was it to her, if Frederick Wentworth were only half a mile distant, making himself agreeable to others! — Jane Austen

It's midnight!" he says frantically, slapping at the door. "Call her. Call your roommate!"
"Oh, shit," I mutter. I retrieve my phone and begin to dial Emory's number.
"I was about to dial 911," Emory says as she answers.
"Sorry, we almost forgot."
"Do you need to use the code word?" she asks.
"No, I'm fine. I already locked him out, so I don't think he's going to murder me tonight."
Emory sighs. "That sucks," she says. "Not that he didn't murder you," she adds quickly. "I just really wanted to hear you say the code word."
I laugh. "I'm sorry my safety disappoints you."
She sighs again. "Please? Just say it for me one time."
"Fine," I say with a groan. "Meat dress. Are you happy?"
There's a quiet pause before she says, "I don't know. Now I'm not sure if you said the code word just to make me happy or if you're really in danger. — Colleen Hoover

Praise the world to the angel, not what can't be talked about.
You can't impress him with your grand emotions. In the grand cosmos
where he so intensely feels, you're just a novice. So show
him some simple thing shaped for generation after generation
until it lives in our hands and in our eyes, and it's ours.
Tell him about things. He'll stand amazed, just as you did
beside the ropemaker in Rome or the potter on the Nile.
Show him how happy a thing can be, how innocent and ours;
how even grief's lament purely determines its own shape,
serves as a thing, or dies in a thing - and escapes
In ecstasy beyond the violin. — Rainer Maria Rilke

It is not true, what I said before, because I hated him. He was the war criminal, and after the war they hanged him. I was so happy I wept for joy when I heard he was dead. Then I shave my head and took the vow to stop hating. — Ruth Ozeki

For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator toward his creature were, and that i ought to render him happy before I complained of his wickedness. — Mary Shelley

Thus we see that the lot of the duck hunter is not a happy one. He is the child of frustration, the collector of mishap, the victim of misfortune. He suffers from cold and wet and lack of sleep. He is punished more often than rewarded. Yet he continues. Why? Because one great day
and great days do come, days when the ducks are willing and the gun swings true
repays him many fold for all the others. — Ted Trueblood

We are what we love. If we love God, in whose image we were created, we discover ourselves in him and we cannot help being happy: we have already achieved something of the fullness of being for which we were destined in our creation. If we love everything else but God, we contradict the image born in our very essence, and we cannot help being unhappy, because we are living a caricature of what we are meant to be. — Thomas Merton

When it's time to leave, we put on our shoes, kiss Daddy good-bye, and tumble out the front door. Waiting for us on the street in front of his car is Peter with a bouquet of cellophane-wrapped pink carnations. "Happy birthday, kid," he says. Kitty's eyes bulge. "Are those for me?" He laughs. "Who else would they be for? Hurry and get in the car." Kitty turns to me, her eyes bright, her smile as wide as her face. I'm smiling too. "Are you coming too, Lara Jean?" I shake my head. "No, there's only room for two." "You're my only girl today, kid," Peter says, and Kitty runs to him and snatches the flowers out of his hand. Gallantly, he opens the door for her. He shuts it and turns and winks at me. "Don't be jealous, Covey." I've never liked him more than in this moment. — Jenny Han

The thing is, Max," he said, tons of heart-wringing emotion in his eyes, "you're even more special than I always told you. You see, you were created for a reason. Kept alive for a purpose, a special purpose." You mean besides seeing how well insane scientists could graft avian DNA into a human egg? He took a breath, looking deep into my eyes. I coldly shut down every good memory I had of him, every laugh we'd shared, every happy moment, every thought that he was like a dad to me. "Max, that reason, that purpose is: You are supposed to save the world." 62 Okay, I couldn't help it. My jaw dropped open. I shut it again quickly. Well. This would certainly give weight to my ongoing struggle to have the bathroom first in the morning. — James Patterson

And then a silver hare, a boar, and a fox soared past Harry, Ron, and Hermione's heads: The dementors fell back before the creatures' approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast their Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Seamus.
"That's right," said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A. "That's right, Harry ... come on, think of something happy ... "
"Something happy?" he said, his voice cracked.
"We're all still here," she whispered, "we're still fighting. Come on, now ... "
There was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him, the stag burst from the end of Harry's wand. — J.K. Rowling

No, Mr Redmayne, not my tears. Although I've read that letter every day for the past eight months, those tears were not shed by me, but by the man who wrote them. He knew how much I loved him. We would have made a life together even if we could only spend one day a month with each other. I'd have been happy to wait twenty years, more, in the hope that I would eventually be allowed to spend the rest of my life with the only man I'll ever love. I adored Danny from the day I met him, and no one will ever take his place. — Jeffrey Archer

My dad doesn't have an iota of the depressive in him. He just depresses other people. Nothing brings him down. But this can't be true. I think it just comes out when absolutely no one else is around. It always seemed that while I knew he loved us a lot, my father actually needed nothing to be happy except books. There was enough in literature to challenge, entertain, amuse and inspire a man for a lifetime. Books and music were simply enough to sustain anyone was what he radiated. Humor, love, tragedy, it was all contained therein. And if all he needed was books, then he probably wouldn't mind if he lost the house and the wife and the whole life. Because the story was more important than the family. The story being that he was going to write the Great American Novel and finally be important, and in being important, he would be loved. Willing to lose his family to be loved by his family. Oh, the tragic blunder of this. It could almost drive someone mad. Wait, it did drive someone mad. — Jeanne Darst

Man is timid and apologetic; he is no longer upright; he dares not say "I think," "I am," but quotes some saint or sage. He is ashamed before the blade of grass or the blowing rose. These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less. Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

That's when it hit him with the force of a fastball in the chest: He was falling in love with Shane MacKinnon. He hardly knew her, and yet he knew with absolutely certainty that she was everything he'd ever wanted. He wanted to hold her like this for the rest of their lives. He wanted to wipe away her tears. He wanted to make her happy, take care of her, protect her from harm. He wanted to make babies with her and walk beside her as they grew old. He wanted to be buried next to her.
Falling? It was completely nuts, but he couldn't deny it: He was already in love with her. And it scared the crap out of him. — Jane Taylor Starwood

I, too, like to read. Once a month, I go to the local branch. For myself, I pick a novel and, for Bruno, with his cataracts, a book on tape. At first Bruno was doubtful. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he said, looking at the box set of "Anna Karenina" as if I'd handed him an enema. And yet. A day or two later I was going about my business when a voice from above bellowed, ALL HAPPY FAMILIES RESEMBLE ONE ANOTHER, nearly giving me a conniption. After that, he listened to whatever I'd brought him at top volume and then returned it to me without comment. One afternoon, I came back from the library with Ulysses. For a month straight he listened. He had a habit of pressing the stop button and rewinding when he hadn't fully grasped something. INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE VISIBLE: AT LEAST THAT. Pause, rewind. INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE. Pause, rewind. INELUCTABLE MODALITY. Pause. INELUCT. — Nicole Krauss

Your fussy nursemaid of a wyvern is fine, by the way. I don't know how you wound up with a sweet thing like that for a mount, but he's content to sprawl in the sun on the foredeck. Can't say it makes the sailors particularly happy - especially cleaning up after him."
Find somewhere safe, she'd told Abraxos. Had he somehow found the queen? Somehow known this was the only place she might stand a chance of surviving? — Sarah J. Maas

God knows what is my greatest happiness, but I do not. There is no rule about what is happy and good; what suits one would not suit another. And the ways by which perfection is reached vary very much; the medicines necessary for our souls are very different from each other. Thus God leads us by strange ways; we know He wills our happiness, but we neither know what our happiness is, nor the way. We are blind; left to ourselves we should take the wrong way; we must leave it to Him. — John Henry Newman

I want you to be happy, and him to be happy. And yet when you walk that aisle to meet him and join yourselves forever you will walk an invisible path of the shards of my heart Tessa. I would give over my own life for either of yours. — Cassandra Clare

Was she happy? Yes. And no. Because now the words were back, and with them the name that had spun gold around her heart for so long she hardly remembered how things had felt before him. — Cornelia Funke

But tonight he remembered only the warm rooms and the faces of men and women bent over their bowls of steaming soup, and the children already asleep in their beds. He felt for them all a profound love, and he glowed. The moment of his loving was in the world of time merely sixty seconds ticked out by his watch, but in another dimension it was an arc of light encircling the city and leaving not one heart within it untouched by blessedness. Then the clocks began to strike, and the light of the ugly little man's moment of self-forgetfulness was drawn back again into the deep warmth within him. And he understood nothing of what had happened to him, only that now, for a little while, for a few moments or a few days, he would be happy and feel safe. — Elizabeth Goudge

They closed the door on the cabin. There wasn't room enough for them to stand, so they fell into each other's arms on the bunk.
Sam kissed her and tried not to think that it was for the last time.
He was happy. That was the hell of it. He was finally happy. Right here, right now, in this place, with this girl in his arms, he was happy. Was that why he felt the hammer about to fall on him? No, that was crazy. He was happy. Happiness didn't mean that tragedy was coming around the corner. Did it? — Michael Grant

Hey, Ivashkov! Open up. " Avery argued. She kept pounding on the door and yelling, and finally, Adrian answered. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He'd drunk twice as much as Lissa last night.
"What ... ?" He blinked. "Shouldn't you guys be in class? Oh God. I didn't sleep that much, did I? "
"Let us in, " said Avery, pushing past. "We've got refugees from a fire here. " She flounced onto his couch, making herself at home while he continued staring. Lissa and Christian joined her.
"Avery sprang the fire alarm, " explained Lissa.
"Nice work, " said Adrian, collapsing into a fluffy chair. "But why'd you have to come here? Is this the only place that's not burning down? "
Avery batted her eyelashes at him. "Aren't you happy to see us? " He eyed her speculatively for a moment.
"Always happy to see you. — Richelle Mead

We've decided to wake a miss for you because you are nice. We want a booby as roomful as ours.
Everybody had seen the Hobgoblin laugh, but nobody believed he could smile. He was so happy that you could see it all over him
from his hat to his boots! Without a word he waved his cloak over the grass
and behold! Once more the garden was filled with a pink light and there on the grass before them lay a twin to the King's Ruby
the Queen's Ruby. — Tove Jansson

I call him happy who still hopes to rise
To the surface in this sea of error.
The very things we don't know, we could use
And what we do know we have no use for. — Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Perhaps for him there's a way to love that's sane and happy, that isn't cruel. — Rosamund Hodge

Stood looking at him incredulously for a moment, and then they took after him. Stuttering Bill had watched the unequal race from its start to its preordained conclusion from his place against the side of the building. No sense getting involved; those three galoots would be just as happy to beat up on two kids for the price of one. — Stephen King

I know, sweetie. But I've seen you with him. I've seen how he looks at you. Maybe this is the big one. You won't know unless you try." She touched my face. "I'm happy for you, and I think you've got to go with a little leap of faith here. So far Mr. Blackstone is on my good list. If that should change or if he hurts one smooth hair on your innocent head, then his pretty-boy balls are gonna be transformed into a set of Klik-Klaks. And please tell him I said that. — Raine Miller

I thought I'd feel happy because there was only him and me, me with him. But I felt sad. That night, I came to a realization that even if I wanted to close the door on him, my own foot would still stop it from closing. And even if I did manage to close the door completely and he would come knocking years later, I would still welcome him and say, "I've been waiting for you. — Kia Amazona

Stephen Herondale would have killed me if he'd ever met me. I would not have been safe living among people like you, or like him. I am the wife and mother of warriors who fought and died and never dishonored themselves as you have. I have worn gear, wielded blades, and slain demons, and all I wished was to overcome evil so that I could live and be happy with those I loved. I'd hoped I had made this a better, safer world for my children. Because of Valentine's Circle, the Herondale line, the line that was my son's children's children, is finished. That happened through you and your Circle and your husband. Stephen Herondale died with hate in his heart and the blood of my people on his hands. I can imagine no more horrible way for mine and Will's line to end. I will have to carry for the rest of my life the wound of what Valentine's Circle has done to me, and I will live forever. — Cassandra Clare

He wants to tell her that he is not hopeless, that he is not filled with hatred or violence, that he is not a number, a 300 or 600 or any hundred, but just a kid with no one and nothing, and who would do anything to make it otherwise. Just tell me how, he wants to scream. He wants to tell her what it's like to have the same dream night after night, that he's playing tag with his little sister, laughing, happy - then waking up and not knowing if the image in his head is a dim memory, or just something his mind cooked up to fill the black hole. Do you know what it's like to have no past? he wants to ask. And behind it all, like a ringing in his ears, is the question that really nags at him all the time, the one that has haunted him since he was six years old and his family evaporated. He wants to ask it, then and there and for good: What did I do wrong back then? What did I do to deserve this life? — Edward Humes

Once I asked my counsellor for advice about my vocation. I asked, 'How can I know if God is calling me and for what he is calling me?' He answered, 'You will know by your happiness. If you are happy with the idea that God calls you to serve him and your neighbour, this will be the proof of your vocation.' — Mother Teresa

In my judgment, the woman is the equal of the man. She has all the rights I have and one more, and that is the right to be protected. That is my doctrine. You are married; try and make the woman you love happy. Whoever marries simply for himself will make a mistake; but whoever loves a woman so well that he says 'I will make her happy,' makes no mistake. And so with the woman who says, 'I will make him happy.' There is only one way to be happy, and that is to make somebody else so. — Robert G. Ingersoll

Keep it on the down-low." "The what?" "It's a term I've learned from a human. It means keep it secret. It's no one's business and therefore they can't start any trouble if they disagree with the relationship. The male said he did that with an undesirable female." His face grew solemn. "He laughed when I commented that her looks should be irrelevant if she made him happy. I wasn't sure how to take that but I think he cares too much for appearances. The term is the same though. It means being with someone and no one knows." Justice stood. "I don't like that term. Anyone who would dismiss a person because of how they look isn't someone intelligent enough to learn from." "You going home?" Tiger glanced — Laurann Dohner

There's a boy whose affection I am determined to hunt down and kill. It used to be material objects I felt I needed to be happy. It would make me feel stable if I had him. If I had someone like him, it would prove that I'm stable, and then I wouldn't have to do the work to get there. I am constantly looking for ways to cede control of my worries to someone, anyone. — Emma Forrest

Then I saw that sparkle in Naji's eye and knew he was laughing at me.
"See?" he said. "Now you know how it feels"
I glared at him for a few seconds. He looked kind of pleased with himself, but he also looked kind of happy, and that was enough for me to turn back to my equations. — Cassandra Rose Clarke

We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for him. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination and love kept us fighting for them. — Sylvia Day

I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die-
No.
Heather took a deep breath and tried to think about something else. Anything else.
Like ponies.
Ponies were a happy thought. They were nice and gentle and they never kidnapped people or strapped them to cold warehouse pillars.
Ponies, ponies, ponies-
"Tie him up by the girl and for God's sake don't kill him!" Clare's - er, Raven's - voice was like nails on a chalkboard as it floated into Heather's ears.
Any attempts to think of ponies came to an abrupt halt. — Chelsea Fine

What about you, Neville?" said Ron. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. — J.K. Rowling

He doesn't have to say it, i feel it too; it's not subtle - like every bell for miles and miles is ringing at once, loud and clanging, hungry ones and tiny, happy, chiming ones, all of them sounding off in this moment. I put my hands around his neck, pull him to me, and then he's kissing me hard and so deep, and i am flying, sailing, soaring ... — Jandy Nelson

Daughter! Get you an honest Man for a Husband, and keep him honest. No matter whether he is rich, provided he be independent. Regard the Honour and moral Character of the Man more than all other Circumstances. Think of no other Greatness but that of the soul, no other Riches but those of the Heart. An honest, Sensible humane Man, above all the Littlenesses of Vanity, and Extravagances of Imagination, labouring to do good rather than be rich, to be usefull rather than make a show, living in a modest Simplicity clearly within his Means and free from Debts or Obligations, is really the most respectable Man in Society, makes himself and all about him the most happy. — John Adams

a lasting marriage is worth $100,000 a year, since married people report being as happy, on average, as divorced (and not remarried) individuals who have incomes that are $100,000 higher. So, before you go to bed tonight, be sure to tell your spouse that you would not give him or her up for anything less than $100,000 a year. — Anonymous

Your heart belongs to someone else and it always will. I knew it the instant we got here. Do whatever you have to do to make peace with everything that has happened, but don't sacrifice your happiness for it. You deserve to be happy, whether you believe it or not. Let go of your anger. It doesn't define who you are and it shouldn't dictate your life. Forgive him. Gabe — Cecilia London

He's fast asleep, curled up at the other end of my bed, looking peaceful. The expression on his face says he's not really sad, and he's not overcompensating for his sadness by acting all crazy or silly, he's just ... content. And that makes me glad, because more than anything else, I want him to be happy. — Miranda Kenneally

I am very serious when I say this, beware of your dreams, for dreams make dangerous friends. We all have them - longings for a better life, a healthy child, a happy marriage, rewarding work. But dreams are, I have come to believe, misplaced longings. False lovers. Why? Because God is enough. Just God. And he isn't "enough" because he can make our dreams come true - no, you've got him confused with Santa or Merlin or Oprah. The God who created the universe is enough for us - even without our dreams. — Phil Vischer

She asked herself a thousand times why she had hungered so desperately to belong body and soul to Joaquin Andieta when truth she had never been totally happy in his arms, and could explain it only in terms of first love. She had been ready to fall in love when he came to the house to unload some cargo; the rest was instinct. She had merely obeyed the most powerful and ancient of calls, but it had happened an eternity ago and seven thousand miles away. Who she was then and what she had seen in him she could not say, only that now her heart was far away from there. Not only was she tired of looking for him but deep down she did not want to find him; at the same time, though, she could not go on riddled with doubt. She needed an ending for that phase in order to begin a new love with a clean slate — Isabel Allende

True beauty isn't in how big your breasts are, or how large your eyes are, or how pretty your nose is. All that is temporary. Breasts sag, skin gets wrinkles, waists become wider, and strong backs stoop. I tried to teach you this when you were younger, but I must've done a bad job, because you never learned it. True beauty is in how that person makes you feel. When a man truly loves you, the longer you are together, the more beautiful you will be to him. When he looks at you and you look at him, you won't just see the surface. You will see everything you shared, everything you've been through, and every happy moment you hope for. — Ilona Andrews

Nothing," he said.
"I've just been wondering when you'd get around to telling me about her." He stared at him, unable to hide his surprise.
"You knew?"
"I thought you were to busy ... "
"Being sad?" Owen gave him a rueful grin.
"Well ... yeah."
"You know what made me less sad?"
"What?"
"Seeing you happy," he told him.
"And for a while there, it seemed like those postcards were the only thing that did the trick. — Jennifer E. Smith

In short, we have no positive, inner desire to pray. We do it only when circumstances force us. Why? We know God is there, but we tend to see him as a means through which we get things to make us happy. For most of us, he has not become our happiness. We therefore pray to procure things, not to know him better. — Timothy J. Keller

It is not clear who will bring to the Whitehouse those useful commodities of vivid language, a sense of history and most important - a sense of humour, but Johnson himself will provide many other attributes. He is effective precisely because he is so determined, industrious, personal and even humourless, particularly in dealing with Congress. ( ... ) Kennedy had a detached and even donnish willingness to grant a merit in the other fellow's argument. Johnson is not so inclined to retreat and grants nothing in an argument, not even equal time. Ask not what you have done for Lyndon Johnson, but what you have done for him lately. This may not be the most attractive quality of the new administration but it works. The lovers of style are not too happy with the new administration, but the lovers of substance are not complaining. — Robert A. Caro

If he had but a little more brains, she thought to herself, I might make something of him; but she never let him perceive the opinion she had of him; listened with indefatigable complacency to his stories of the stable and the mess; laughed at all his jokes...When he came home, she was alert and happy; when he went out she pressed him to go; when he stayed at home, she played and sang for him, made him good drinks, superintended his dinner, warmed his slippers, and steeped his soul in comfort. The best of women {I have heard my grandmother say) are hypocrites. We don't know how much they hide from us: how watchful they are when they seem most artless and confidential: how often those frank smile which they wear so easily are traps to cajole or elude or disarm--I don't mean in your mere coquettes, but your domestic models and paragons of female virute. — William Makepeace Thackeray

...As for having him only while on earth... that IS how it stands now, but don't give up. He's a really good person, Jane. And he loves you... You've got to have a little faith -- And keep dreaming. Some happy endings just take a little longer and are harder to come by. — Michele Paige Holmes

Princes always are always happy to see developing among their subjects the taste for agreeable arts and for superfluities which do not result in the export of money. For quite apart from the fact that with these they nourish that spiritual pettiness so appropriate for servitude, they know very well that all the needs which people give themselves are so many chains binding them. When Alexander wished to keep the Ichthyophagi dependent on him, he forced them to abandon fishing and to nourish themselves on foods common to other people. And no one has been able to subjugate the savages in America, who go around quite naked and live only from what their hunting provides. In fact, what yoke could be imposed on men who have no need of anything? — Jean-Jacques Rousseau

There is a friend ever waiting to help us, if we will only unbosom to Him our sorrow, - a friend who pitied the poor, and sick, and sorrowful, when He was upon earth, - a friend who knows the heart of a man, for He lived thirty-three years as a man amongst us, - a friend who can weep with the weepers, for He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, - a friend who is able to help us, for there never was earthly pain He could not cure. That friend is Jesus Christ. The way to be happy is to be always opening our hearts to Him. — J.C. Ryle

They paid the deposit immediately and appeared to be good tenants although they were reluctant to invite him over the threshold once they had moved in. "There is no need for you to come in," he had been told by a burly Russian who answered the door when he had called to see whether all was well. "There is nothing wrong. Everything functions. We are very happy. Goodbye. — Alexander McCall Smith

Whoever is in charge of such things had been sparing with his blessings on the moment Benno was born. He had neither looks nor wit nor skill. He was not large or strong, he could not sing; in fact, he had a stammer, which on most occasions left him self-consciously mute. One gift only had been given, a gift as simple as it is rare: the gift of pure goodness. He knew, unerringly, what was right, what was kind, what would make people happy, and he did it without fail. His goodness took no effort; there was no internal scale to be balanced. He hoped for no reward and feared no hell. He was not clever- in his final year of school before the teachers despaired of him, he was asked how he would equitably divide a half-pound loaf of bread among himself and two friends. He said he would go without and his two friends would each have a quarter pound, and neither threats of failure not the switch could persuade him to change his answer. — Laura L. Sullivan

When you're dying, the unicorn up in heaven gets a note from an angel telling her there's a person who's going to need a ride up soon. The unicorn finds out what the person likes. Favorite foods and books, colors and activities, pets and games. She gets a room ready for him, or her, near people who she knows they'll enjoy being with, maybe other friends and family who have died before.
When the unicorn is done, she jumps off of heaven's perch, flies through the blue sky, around the clouds, over any rainbows, and down to the person. She's invisible to everyone. She patiently waits. When the person dies, she gathers them up on her back, using her hooves and horn. All of a sudden, they sit up straight and smile, they laugh, because they're on top of a unicorn and alive again. They hold on tight to her golden reins and the unicorn takes them to their new home, where they're happy. — Cathy Lamb

The desire to make the horse happy and the cabman happy, had reached the point of a bizarre longing to take them to bed with him. And that, he knew, was impossible. For Stevie was not mad. It was, as it were, a symbolic longing; and at the same time it was very distinct, because springing from experience, the mother of wisdom. Thus when as a child he cowered in a dark corner scared, wretched, sore, and miserable with the black, black misery of the soul, his sister Winnie used to come along, and carry him off to bed with her, as into a heaven of consoling peace. Stevie, though apt to forget mere facts, such as his name and address for instance, had a faithful memory of sensations. To be taken into a bed of compassion was the supreme remedy, with the only one disadvantage of being difficult of application on a large scale. And looking at the cabman, Stevie perceived this clearly, because he was reasonable. — Joseph Conrad

For the Athenians of that day did not look for an orator or a general who would enable them to live in happy servitude; they cared not to live at all, unless they might live in freedom. For every one of them felt that he had come into being, not for his father and his mother alone, but also for his country. And wherein lies the difference? He who thinks he was born for his parents alone awaits the death which destiny assigns him in the course of nature: but he who thinks he was born for his country also will be willing to die, that he may not see her in bondage, and will look upon the outrages and the indignities that he must needs bear in a city that is in bondage as more to be dreaded than death. — Demosthenes

The happy man needs nothing and no one. Not that he holds himself aloof, for indeed he is in harmony with everything and everyone; everything is "in him"; nothing can happen to him. The same may also be said for the contemplative person; he needs himself alone; he lacks nothing. — Josef Pieper

His slow smile might haved lured angels from heaven, flocking noisily, arms outstretched,happy to burn for him. — Meredith Duran

The sensation was part of the general strangeness that made him feel like a man waking from a long sleep to find himself in an unknown country among people of alien tongue. We live in our own souls as in an unmapped region, a few acres of which we have cleared for our habitation; while of the nature of those nearest us we know but the boundaries that march with ours. Of the points in his wife's character not in direct contact with his own, Glennard now discerned his ignorance; and the baffling sense of her remoteness was intensified by the discovery that, in one way, she was closer to him than ever before. As one may live for years in happy unconsciousness of the possession of a sensitive nerve, he had lived beside his wife unaware that her individuality had become a part of the texture of his life, ineradicable as some growth on a vital organ; and he now felt himself at once incapable of forecasting her judgment and powerless to evade its effects. — Edith Wharton

Her hands shot up. "See that's exactly what I'm saying. You're seeing what you want, and what you see you explain away and excuse things like you're fixing me. I'm not perfect, Ephraim and I really wish you would see that."
"You drool."
"What?" That caught her off guard.
"When you're asleep you drool. I've woken up more than a few times with a little puddle forming on my chest." After a thought he added. "And you snore. Not a delicate snore either mind you."
"I do not!" Her face colored with indignation.
He sighed heavily as if the knowledge pained him. "Oh, but you do. I've even heard Jill talk about it. Did you know that's the main reason she was happy about her room. Actually, she and Joshua thanked your Grandmother for putting you at the other end of the house, something about finally getting a decent night's sleep. They compared your snore to a chainsaw. I can see why they'd say that. — R.L. Mathewson

I kissed him. His arms slid around me and drew me close, and we stayed like that for a while, my hands tangled in his hair, his cool lips on mine. My earlier thoughts in the crypt came back to haunt me, and I shoved them into the darkest corner of my mind. I would not give him up. I would find a way to have a happy ending, for both of us. — Julie Kagawa

That's it, I'm going to beat you down and make you sorry."
Xypher froze as he braced himself for her attack.
But instead of her giving him pain, she tickled him. It took him several seconds before he realized her intent. By then she was pouting.
"You're not ticklish. Well, that stinks." She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, hiding the breasts he loved to tease.
"I'm sorry," he said, trying to cheer her. "If it'll make you happy, I'll pretend to be."
"No it's okay. Can't have everything, I suppose." She paused at the edge of the bed. "But you come darn close."
"Close to what?"
"Being perfect. Only you're more than that, Xypher. You're wonderful."
Xypher couldn't move as she left him to go to the bathroom. He couldn't breathe as those words sank into his consciousness. She thinks I'm wonderful ... — Sherrilyn Kenyon

A doctor, a logician and a marine biologist had also just arrived, flown in at phenomenal expense from Maximegalon to try to reason with the lead singer who had locked himself in the bathroom with a bottle of pills and was refusing to come out till it could be proved conclusively to him that he wasn't a fish. The bass player was busy machine-gunning his bedroom and the drummer was nowhere on board.
Frantic inquiries led to the discovery that he was standing on a beach on Santraginus V over a hundred light years away where, he claimed, he had been happy for over half an hour now and had found a small stone that would be his friend. — Douglas Adams

Dorian strokes my exposed back with the tips of his fingers, sending shockwaves up and down my spine. I gasp from the contact, resisting the urge to beg him for more. He brings his face down to my neck, letting his lips brush my earlobe. "Gabriella, I would love to bend you over this desk right now and pull your dress up past your thighs and over your ass," he murmurs, sex dripping from his soft lips.
"That sounds good to me," I breathe, turning my head a fraction. "What's stopping you?" Never in my life have I been this bold and eager with a man but Dorian has awakened the sleeping sex giant within me. If my days are numbered, I want to at least die happy.
"Oh, I would do it. But I know Aurora will come looking for me and I don't want to be disturbed when I ... ruin you." Ruin me? It sounds so threatening and violent.
I love it. — S.L. Jennings

Our problems stem from our childhood. Ray was, for so long, the only boy. Then I arrive and take all his limelight away from him. That must have quite a profound effect. I sometimes think that Ray was only happy for three-and-a-half years in his life. And those were the three-and-a-half years before I was born. — Dave Davies

Now he understood that a man never knows for whom he suffers and hopes. He suffers and hopes and toils for people he will never know, and who, in turn, will suffer and hope and toil for others who will not be happy either, for man always seeks a happiness far beyond that which is meted out to him. But man's greatness consists in the very fact of wanting to be better than he is. In laying duties upon himself. In the Kingdom of Heaven there is no grandeur to be won, inasmuch as there all is an established hierarchy, the unknown is revealed, existence is infinite, there is no possibility of sacrifice, all is rest and joy. For this reason, bowed down by suffering and duties, beautiful in the midst of his misery, capable of loving in the face of afflictions and trials, man finds his greatness, his fullest measure, only in the Kingdom of this World. — Alejo Carpentier

Many a business depends for its success on some girl who is smart enough to see to it that her boss gets his work done, who sometimes even does his work for him, who keeps everybody satisfied and happy, and who has enough foresight to control new situations as they occur. How do you go about finding such a jewel? ... RICHARD and RUBIN, How to Select and Direct the Office Staff — Susan Griffin

There is silver blue, sky blue and thunder blue. Every colour holds within it a soul, which makes me happy or repels me, and which acts as a stimulus. To a person who has no art in him, colours are colours, tones tones ... and that is all. All their consequences for the human spirit, which range between heaven to hell, just go unnoticed. — Emil Nolde

My father who was always serious has fallen in love with a dog. What can I do but be happy for him? — Michael Simms

He tries again, swallowing hard to ease away the painful lump in his throat. "It's just important. I love you. I'm yours. I need people to know."
"Alright," Lindsay says suddenly. He leans down to grab at Pip's bag, throwing stuff out onto the carpet, his iPod and phone and wallet and gloves and Attitude magazine until he finds what he's looking for, a green marker pen, and holds it between his teeth while he starts tugging at the hem of Pip's t-shirt. Pip's too surprised to do anything but submit, he lets Lindsay peel off his t-shirt and throw that on top of all the things from his bag then just watches as Lindsay pulls the pen out of the cap in his mouth and signs his name in big green letters on the side of Pip's stomach. He holds his breath, trying not to suck in the belly fat everybody else keeps telling him is imaginary. "There, you're mine, are you fucking happy now?" Lindsay snaps, and throws the recapped pen across the room to get lost in the bookcase somewhere. — Richard Rider

wanted to make him know that he had friends in this world tied to him by something stronger than blood, ties that could never fade or dissolve. That he would never be hungry or cold or motherless while I still drew breath. That he didn't need two hands, or a street address, or clean lungs, or social grace, or a happy disposition to be precious and irreplaceable. That no matter what our future held, my first task would always be to kick a hole in the world and make a space for him where he could safely be his eccentric self. Most — Hope Jahren

Die - you will have to die. But die gracefully. I am not saying die like a stoic, I am not saying die like a very controlled man. No, I'm saying die gracefully, beautifully, as if a friend is coming, knocks at your door, and you are happy. And you embrace the friend and invite him in, and you have been waiting for him so long ... — Rajneesh

She has no regrets; she knows now he could never have made her happy, even though he has, apparently, joined AA, is doing better. But sobriety is his journey, not hers; he needs to do it for himself, alone. Still, she misses him hugely, doesn't feel ready for another relationship yet. But as time passes, she hopes that she might be, eventually, with someone new, easier, kinder. — Sarah Rayner

He never mentioned whether something was fair, however. Fairness itself seemed to hold very little interest for him, which I found fascinating, as people, especially young people, are very interested in what's fair. Fairness is a concept taught to nice children: it is the governing principle of kindergartens and summer camps and playgrounds and soccer fields ... Fairness is for happy people, for people who have been lucky enough to have lived a life defined more by certainties than by ambiguities. — Hanya Yanagihara

For all its peculiarities and unevenness, the Bible has a simple story. God made man. Man rejected God. God won't give up until he wins him back. God will whisper. He will shout. He will touch and tug. He will take away our burdens; he'll even take away our blessings. If there are a thousand steps between us and him, he will take all but one. But he will leave the final one for us. The choice is ours. Please understand. His goal is not to make you happy. His goal is to make you His. His goal is not to get you what you want; it is to get you what you need. — Max Lucado

But I'll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne," said Gilbert sadly. "It will be three years before I'll finish my medical course. And even then there will be no diamond sunbursts and marble halls."

Anne laughed.

"I don't want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU. You see I'm quite as shameless as Phil about it. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well, but there is more 'scope for imagination' without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn't matter. We'll just be happy, waiting and working for each other -- and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now."

Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew. — L.M. Montgomery

He's not perfect. You aren't either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn't going to quote poetry, he's not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don't hurt him, don't change him, and don't expect for more than he can give. Don't analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he's not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don't exist, but there's always one guy that is perfect for you. — Bob Marley

We rightly scorn those who have no made use of their defects, who have not exploited their deficiencies, and have not been enriched by their losses, as we despise any man who does not suffer at being a man or simply at being. Hence no graver insult can be inflicted than to call someone 'happy', no greater flattery than to grant him a 'vein of melancholy' ... This is because gaiety is link to no important action and because, except for the mad, no one laughs when he is alone. — Emil Cioran