Joie De Vivre Quotes

Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.

The very meaninglessness of life forces man to create his own meaning. Children, of course, begin life with an untarnished sense of wonder, a capacity to experience total joy at something as simple as the greenness of a leaf; but as they grow older, the awareness of death and decay begins to impinge on their consciousness and subtly erode their joie de vivre, their idealism – and their assumption of immortality. As a child matures, he sees death and pain everywhere about him, and begins to lose faith in the ultimate goodness of man. But, if he’s reasonably strong – and lucky – he can emerge from this twilight of the soul into a rebirth of life’s elan. Both because of and in spite of his awareness of the meaninglessness of life, he can forge a fresh sense of purpose and affirmation. He may not recapture the same pure sense of wonder he was born with, but he can shape something far more enduring and sustaining. The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death – however mutable man may be able to make them – our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfillment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.

If only there was enough space on this tiny card to evoke my unfettered joie de vivre for what you have done. The gaiety, the mirth, the heavenly bubbling of every effusive cell that sings inside me for your kind and pithy offering.

Embrace fanaticism. Harness joie de vivre by pursuing insane interests, consuming passions, and constant sources of gratification that do not depend on the approval of others

Life has been a combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.

Comme ils sont étranges ces jours où la joie de vivre est programmée dans les calendriers.

It’s not being a sass-monkey that I object to. That I like. It’s the joyless attitude. One of the chief pleasures of life is mocking others, so occasionally show some glee about doing it. Have some joie de vivre.” “I’m undead,” said Raphael. “What about joie de unvivre?

Joie de vivre is an attitude. It's a decision you make to live a life of joy. It's an invitation to this dance called life. All you have to do is leave the door slightly ajar and listen for the music.

I use the word drifted advisedly. I have read novels in which young people are described as bursting with energy—joie de vivre, the magnificent vitality of youth … Personally, all the young people I come across have the air of animal wraiths.

Joie de vivre is about loving life, loving people, loving to be alive, feeling alive. It is about smiling, being in your heart, and being grateful for all the beautiful things in your life: being in good health, being able to hear, to see, to walk, being grateful for all the lovely and loving people...

All humans are essentially wild creatures and hate confinement. We need what is wild, and we thrill to it, our wildness bubbling over with an anarchic joie de vivre. We glint when the wild light shines. The more suffocatingly enclosed we are - tamed by television, controlled by mortgages and bureaucracy - the louder our wild genes scream in aggression, anger and depression.

There is a tremendous difference between existing and thriving. Regardless of our age, we need the life force of joy—joie de vivre.

Kate Gompert’s always thought of this anhedonic state as a kind of radical abstracting of everything, a hollowing out of stuff that used to have affective content. Terms the undepressed toss around and take for granted as full and fleshy—happiness, joie de vivre, preference, love—are stripped to their skeletons and reduced to abstract ideas. They have, as it were, denotation but not connotation. The anhedonic can still speak about happiness and meaning et al., but she has become incapable of feeling anything in them, of understanding anything about them, of hoping anything about them, or of believing them to exist as anything more than concepts. Everything becomes an outline of the thing. Objects become schemata. The world becomes a map of the world. An anhedonic can navigate, but has no location. I.e. the anhedonic becomes, in the lingo of Boston AA, Unable To Identify.

She wanted to live, and live fully, and to give life, she who loved life! What was the good of existing, if you couldn't give yourself?

I have a tremendous joie de vivre... alternating with irritability of course.

This is the essence of French joie de vivre. It is a gesture. An experience. It is the fleeting moment in time that can never be repeated and must be appreciated now before it flies away, gone forever. It's about being present and alive to the ordinary moment. It's about friendship and the knowledge that nothing lasts forever. It is Zen. And for the Frenchwoman, I believe, it is the heart of happiness.

The very joyful thing about seeing ourselves and life from a place of gratitude instead of entitlement— is that this way of breathing allows us to be forgiving of difficult circumstances in life and of those people who delivered such difficult circumstances to us. Gratitude allows us second chances at joy; not with the same circumstances or those same people; but it alleviates the burden of bitterness that comes with not receiving what one believes he/she was entitled to have. We can instead look forward into life and see that there will be many good things and we will be grateful for them.

Daisy loved all parades, especially this one, whose crush of observers, prone to impulsive kisses, made it one more piece of the mistletoe under which she lived her life

And so it is that a new joie de vivre creeps into Ada's soul like a moth into a trunk of woollens.

I had entered a world that no one with an evolved sense of joie de vivre would touch with a barge pole - it's called "Joining the Property Market" and it trumps war for stress!

Villages have an unmistakable charm. There is a subtle magic found in villages. The earthiness, greenery, and fragrance of flowers, plants, fruits, and vegetables growing in the field is breathtakingly inimitable. Sitting in the lush green fields, while gazing at the wide blue sky, amidst the farm animals and the simple houses in the background, is a joie de vivre.

Time is money" This expression says so much about our culture. If time is money, then when we do something that does not involve getting paid, is it a waste of time? A waste of money?

Dancing takes a certain lightness, a spring in the step, an elasticity in the calves; a kind of joie de vivre, or alternatively a leavening element of self-proclaiming stupidity in one’s make-up.

If you’re facing a problem, don’t tell yourself that you can’t do it. Convince yourself that you have the strength to deal with almost anything because of the way you were raised. And you do! Recognizing your core strengths is an important step toward having joie de vivre. You can count on better days to come because of the good days that came before. And you can find joy in the moment because you have the resiliency to overcome the problems that may be hanging over you.

You could say that food is love. And to feel loved is to feel happy.

Happiness often comes in the most unlikely and unexpected situations, when we are not really looking for it.

If anyone does not have three minutes in his life to make an omelette, then life is not worth living.

I think joie de vivre as optimism about one's life and the ability to enjoy what you have without worrying too much about what you don't. Finding joy in the everyday isn't necessarily easy, but it helps a lot to share your life with someone you love.

Perhaps happiness is in the eyes of our loved ones and we only need to look, to put on some music, take their hand and dance. It's not something we can truly own. We certainly can't purchase it.

Many people have suggested that unhappines is not caused so much by lack, but by having so many choices it's impossible to focus on what we really want and what we need. Because of this inability to focus, we get confused and we are no longer able to see clearly who we are and what we are supposed to be doing in this world.

the joy to come front and center in your life, you also have to feel your emotions, even the sad ones. You have to mourn, let the tears pour out. If you bottle the sadness in, the joy gets bottled right along with it.

Truth be told, happiness is like the artist's muse. She is very whimsical and loves to play little tricks on us. If we search too hard, happiness will slip away. And then, when we are not really concentrating on capturing her, she will suddenly appear in our peripheral vision wearing a green silk gown, winking at us.

... m'emplissait d'un bonheur vivant, d'un vrai bonheur. J'en avais sur la peau, j'en avais dans la chair, j'en avais dans le sang; il descendait jusque dans l'âme. A cet âge-là on est ignorant. Mais je sentais bien que ma joie de vivre était plus grande que mon corps, et je me disais: "Pascalet, c'est l'ange du Bon Dieu qui remue de plaisir en toi. Traite-le bien." Pascalet ~ "L'enfant et la rivière Traduction en grecque: ... με γέμιζε με μια ευτυχία ζωντανή, με μια πραγματική ευτυχία. Την αισθανόμουν πάνω στο δέρμα μου, μέσα στη σάρκα μου, μέσα στο αίμα μου · κατέβαινε μέχρι την ψυχή μου. Δεν ήξερα τι είναι η ψυχή. Σε αυτή την ηλικία δε γνωρίζουμε πολλά. Όμως αισθανόμουν έντονα ότι η χαρά του να ζω ήταν μεγαλύτερη από το σώμα μου και έλεγα στον εαυτό μου: "Πασκαλέ, είναι ο άγγελος του Καλού Θεού που κινεί την ευτυχία μέσα σου. Φέρσου της καλά".

Leave no livid life in your days but vivid days in your life

Oh, and we shopped! And since I was on a budget, I also did a lot of simple window shopping, or as the French say, le lèche-vitrines: "we licked the window".

And actually, the word "happiness" translates as bonheur in French, which literally means "a good hour" or "good time". It's something you experience.

Jimmy Baldwin was a whirlwind who stirred everything and everybody. He lived at a dizzying pace and I loved spinning with him.

« Chacun ses problèmes, chacun sa joie de vivre ou sa difficulté de vivre. »

The Auditors avoided death by never going so far as to get a life. They strove to be as indistinguishable as hydrogen atoms, and with none of the latter’s joie de vivre.

Joie de vivre is the opposite of this – it’s about graciously gliding through life as if you were making life happen to you instead of life happening to you.

joie de vivre.” Joy and life together. It’s such an ironically perfect description of you.

Chip Conley, the renowned entrepreneur who founded Joie de Vivre Hotels, explains, “Being a giver is not good for a 100-yard dash, but it’s valuable in a marathon

Magnus, his silver mask pushed back into his hair, intercepted the New York vampires before they could fully depart. Alec heard Magnus pitch his voice low. Alec felt guilty for listening in, but he couldn’t just turn off his Shadowhunter instincts. “How are you, Raphael?” asked Magnus. “Annoyed,” said Raphael. “As usual.” “I’m familiar with the emotion,” said Magnus. “I experience it whenever we speak. What I meant was, I know that you and Ragnor were often in contact.” There was a beat, in which Magnus studied Raphael with an expression of concern, and Raphael regarded Magnus with obvious scorn. “Oh, you’re asking if I am prostrate with grief over the warlock that the Shadowhunters killed?” Alec opened his mouth to point out the evil Shadowhunter Sebastian Morgenstern had killed the warlock Ragnor Fell in the recent war, as he had killed Alec’s own brother. Then he remembered Raphael sitting alone and texting a number saved as RF, and never getting any texts back. Ragnor Fell. Alec felt a sudden and unexpected pang of sympathy for Raphael, recognizing his loneliness. He was at a party surrounded by hundreds of people, and there he sat texting a dead man over and over, knowing he’d never get a message back. There must have been very few people in Raphael’s life he’d ever counted as friends. “I do not like it,” said Raphael, “when Shadowhunters murder my colleagues, but it’s not as if that hasn’t happened before. It happens all the time. It’s their hobby. Thank you for asking. Of course one wishes to break down on a heart-shaped sofa and weep into one’s lace handkerchief, but I am somehow managing to hold it together. After all, I still have a warlock contact.” Magnus inclined his head with a slight smile. “Tessa Gray,” said Raphael. “Very dignified lady. Very well-read. I think you know her?” Magnus made a face at him. “It’s not being a sass-monkey that I object to. That I like. It’s the joyless attitude. One of the chief pleasures of life is mocking others, so occasionally show some glee about doing it. Have some joie de vivre.” “I’m undead,” said Raphael. “What about joie de unvivre?” Raphael eyed him coldly. Magnus gestured his own question aside, his rings and trails of leftover magic leaving a sweep of sparks in the night air, and sighed. “Tessa,” Magnus said with a long exhale. “She is a harbinger of ill news and I will be annoyed with her for dumping this problem in my lap for weeks. At least.” “What problem? Are you in trouble?” asked Raphael. “Nothing I can’t handle,” said Magnus. “Pity,” said Raphael. “I was planning to point and laugh. Well, time to go. I’d say good luck with your dead-body bad-news thing, but . . . I don’t care.” “Take care of yourself, Raphael,” said Magnus. Raphael waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “I always do.

Buddha taught, “Breathing in, I recognize my feeling. Breathing out, I calm my feeling.” If you practice this, not only will your feeling be calmed down but the energy of mindfulness will also help you see into the nature and roots of your anger. Mindfulness helps you be concentrated and look deeply. This is true meditation. The insight will come after some time of practice. You will see the truth about yourself and the truth about the person who you thought to be the cause of your suffering. This insight will release you from your anger and transform the roots of anger in you. The transformation in you will also help transform the other person. Mindful speaking can bring real happiness, and unmindful speech can kill. When someone tells us something that makes us happy, that is a wonderful gift. But sometimes someone says something to us that is so cruel and distressing that we feel like committing suicide. We lose our joie de vivre.

Я недаремно вжив слово «заблукала». Мені доводилося читати романи, у яких молоді люди дихають бурхливою енергією – joie de vivre (радістю життя) – чудесною життєздатністю юності… (Клемент) Розділ другий

Our powder and arrows are going to run out on us some time. And so are our food and water and joie de vivre and good books and everything. Why not walk out now and get made into somebody’s favourite slave?

You can’t be a risk taker and expect to win each and every time. If you could control the future, then you wouldn’t be taking any risks. And while failure leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the sweetness of winning more than makes up for it, and you’ll never win at anything unless you take a risk in the first place.

I actually look for things to smile about. If I’m going to a concert later that night and I start to feel in a bad mood, I think about the wonderful melodies I’ll be hearing later. I make a conscious effort to be positive. And if you want the most joie de vivre in your life, that’s what you must do as well. Negative thoughts will pop into your head, as they do to me and everybody. But why give in to those thoughts and allow your mood to be dragged downward? My suggestion is to fight off the temptation to go negative and work at being positive. Try it out and see what happens. I’m willing to bet you find the experience worth repeating again and again.

Sippy had described them as England's premier warts, and it looked to me as if he might be about right. Professor Pringle was a thinnish, baldish, dyspeptic-lookingish cove with an eye like a haddock, while Mrs Pringle's aspect was that of one who had had bad news round about the year 1900 and never really got over it. And I was just staggering under the impact of these two when I was introduced to a couple of ancient females with shawls all over them. "No doubt you remember my mother?" said Professor Pringle mournfully, indicating Exhibit A. "Oh - ah!" I said, achieving a bit of a beam. "And my aunt," sighed the Prof, as if things were getting worse and worse. "Well, well, well!" I said shooting another beam in the direction of Exhibit B. "They were saying only this morning that they remembered you," groaned the Prof, abandoning all hope. There was a pause. The whole strength of the company gazed at me like a family group out of one of Edgar Allan Poe's less cheery yarns, and I felt my joie de vivre dying at the roots. "I remember Oliver," said Exhibit A. She heaved a sigh. "He was such a pretty child. What a pity! What a pity!" Tactful, of course, and calculated to put the guest completely at his ease.

Thank you for asking. Of course one wishes to break down on a heart-shaped sofa and week into one's lace handkerchief, but I am somehow managing to hold it together. After all, I still have a warlock contact." Magnus inclined his head with a slight smile. "Tessa Gray," said Raphael. "Very dignified lady. Very well-read. I think you know her?" Magnus made a face at him. "It's not being a sass-monkey that I object to. That I like. It's the joyless attitude. One of the chief pleasures of life is mocking others, so occasionally show some glee about doing it. Have some joie de vivre." "I'm undead," said Raphael. "What about joie de unvivre?" Raphael eyed him coldly. Magnus gestured his own question aside, his rings and trails of leftover magic leaving a sweep of leftover magic leaving a sweep of sparks in the night air, and sighed. "Tessa," Magnus said with a long exhale. "She is a harbinger of ill news and I will be annoyed with her for dumping this problem in my lap for weeks. At least." "What problem? Are you in trouble?" asked Raphael. "Nothing I can't handle," said Magnus. "Pity," said Raphael. "I was planning to point and laugh. Well, time to go. I'd say good luck with your dead-body bad-news thing, but ... I don't care." "Take care of yourself, Raphael," said Magnus. Raphael waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "I always do.

We concoct neologisms (quark, meme, clone, deep structure), invent slang (to spam, to diss, to flame, to surf the web, a spin doctor), borrow useful words from other languages (joie de vivre, schlemiel, angst, machismo), or coin new metaphors (waste time, vote with your feet, push the outside of the envelope).

With all our success and expensive vacations, our big houses and bigger mortgages and our brand-new cars - have we become so satiated that we're really a little miserable, feeling a little let down by the pursuit of material goods? And have we forgotten how to find simple, old-fashioned, down-to-earth happiness?

American culture strongly values ideals of entrepreneurship, independence and self-reliance. We call our WHY—the American Dream. French culture strongly values ideals of unified identity, group reliance and joie de vivre. (Notice that we use the French word to describe the joy-of-life lifestyle. Coincidence? Perhaps.)

Young Sathian was flirtatious, titillating, quick-witted, and brilliant. He left a trail of broken hearts across the land as he teased and taunted his victims with his beauty and charm. Both women and men succumbed to his joie de vivre and panache as he was an untypical Ange’el that carried the sunshine in his smile and in his eyes.

The Danes are so full of joie de vivre that they practically sweat it. In a corner of Europe where the inhabitants have the most blunted concept of pleasure (in Norway, three people and a bottle of beer is a party; in Sweden, the national sport is suicide), the Danes’ relaxed attitude to life is not so much refreshing as astonishing.

C'etait un jour de fete. Mais l'haine se repete. Laissez pas la peur dominer le coeur, Si on veut que l'amour soit vainqueur

Treated without respect, food can be dangerous stuff. It can nourish you and at the same time, it can destroy you.

That's the nice thing about struggling with weight - it often forces you to be creative and to appreciate scarves, hats, boots & bijoux.

Inherent in the French concept of happinness is the knowledge that time is limited and joy is fleeting. It's a moment, never to be repeated.

When each generation listens to different music instead of music that keeps a culture and society together, it can end up dividing us.

Vivre les malheurs d’avance, c’est les subir deux fois. Le moment présent était un moment de joie, il ne fallait pas l’empoisonner.

Mais ces soucis étaient pour demain, pour tout à l'heure. Vivre les malheurs d'avance, c'est les subir deux fois. Le moment présent était un moment de joie, il ne fallait pas l'empoisonner.

In America, we are entitled to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." There is no such expression in France. In fact, in France, the equivalent expression is la recherche du bonheur (looking for happiness). On the surface, this might seem as if I am splitting hairs, but if you really examine the idea of "looking" for happiness as opposed to "pursuing" happiness, you'll see there's actually a big difference. If we're looking for something, it feels as if it's there hiding in plain sight. And all we have to do is be patient and when the room is quiet, quickly lift up the tablecloth and voilà! There it is! Happiness! On the other hand, pursuing implies a kind of chasing after something. "Looking for happiness" seems gentler. There is happiness and we just need to look.

For all of [Fanny] Ardant’s ability to depict a range of emotion, I most associate her with joy. Not necessarily the depiction of joy, but rather a joy of acting, a joy of being, a joie de vivre. Ardant, in her mature performances, conveys the sense of someone bringing to scenes her full being, her whole self and experience. There is an understanding of the value of life in such moments, in the value of the moments themselves.

I have always been a loner. Even as a child, when my family and friends were off attending parties I would be sequestered in my room, sketchpad in hand, stereo by my side, listening to seductive R&B. Solitude was something I took for granted. Coming from a large family I needed solitude in order to think straight and paint my way out of confusion. My parents were accepting of the fact that I kept to myself and they respected my decision even though it went against my Somali upbringing, a culture rooted in boisterousness and joie de vivre.

She exuded abundant joie de vivre. Her joy was unconfined and unrestrained, it had no rhyme or reason, no grounds or motive, nothing had to happen to make her overflow with jollity. Of course, I sometimes saw her momentarily sad, weeping openly when she thought rightly or wrongly that someone had insulted her, or shamelessly sobbing in a sad film, or crying over a poignant page in a novel. But her sadness was always firmly enclosed within brackets of powerful joy, like hot spring water that no snow or ice could cool because its heat flowed straight from the core of the earth.

But the question is, how can my head be filled with such sad memories and yet I am still able to make people laugh? It’s not always easy, but the secret is to compartmentalize the various sections of your brain. I can put aside the sad memories when I have to, but they’re always lurking around somewhere, and sometimes they pop up when I least expect it. The more you practice, the easier it becomes. But to allow the joy to come front and center in your life, you also have to feel your emotions, even the sad ones. You have to mourn, let the tears pour out. If you bottle the sadness in, the joy gets bottled right along with it.

The Danes are so full of joie de vivre that they practically sweat it. In a corner of Europe where the inhabitants have the most blunted concept of pleasure (in Norway, three people and a bottle of beer is a party; in Sweden the national sport is suicide), the Danes’ relaxed attitude to life is not so much refreshing as astonishing. Do you know how long World War II lasted for Denmark? It was over in a day – actually less than a day. Hitler’s tanks crossed the border under cover of darkness and had taken control of the country by dawn. As a politician of the time remarked, ‘We were captured by telegram.’ By evening they were all back in the bars and restaurants.

Then I remembered how my Weight Watchers leader told us to 'walk the circumference of the supermarket', meaning to avoid the aisles in the middle that held the most dangerous foods: the processed foods, the foods full of sugary and fatty goodness. She told us to stick to the outside - the dairy, meat, fish, and produces aisles. So I did.

He had always had a passion for life and the idealism he had come across seemed to him for the most part a cowardly shrinking from it. The idealist withdrew himself because he could not suffer the jostling of the human crowd; he had not the strength to fight and so called the battle vulgar; he was vain and since his fellows would not take him at his own estimate, consoled himself with despising his fellows. For Phillip, this type was Hayward, fair, languid, too fat now and rather bald, still cherishing the remains of his good looks and still delicately proposing to do exquisite things in the uncertain future; and at the back of this were whiskey and vulgar amours of the street.

For too long we have been the playthings of massive corporations, whose sole aim is to convert our world into a gargantuan shopping 'mall'. Pleasantry and civility are being discarded as the worthless ephemera of a bygone age; an age where men doffed their hats at ladies, and children could be counted on to mind your Jack Russell while you took a mild and bitter in the pub. The twinkly-eyed tobacconist, the ruddy-cheeked landlord and the bewhiskered teashop lady are being trampled under the mighty blandness of 'drive-thru' hamburger chains. Customers are herded in and out of such places with an alarming similarity to the way the cattle used to produce the burgers are herded to the slaughterhouse. The principal victim of this blandification is Youth, whose natural propensity to shun work, peacock around the town and aggravate the constabulary has been drummed out of them. Youth is left with a sad deficiency of joie de vivre, imagination and elegance. Instead, their lives are ruled by territorial one-upmanship based on brands of plimsoll, and Youth has become little more than a walking, barely talking advertising hoarding for global conglomerates. ... But now, a spectre is beginning to haunt the reigning vulgarioisie: the spectre of Chappism. A new breed of insurgent has begun to appear on the streets, in the taverns and in the offices of Britain: The Anarcho-Dandyist. Recognisable by his immaculate clothes, the rakish angle of his hat and his subtle rallying cry of "Good day to you sir/ madam!

After Twiss went out the barn, Milly went up to their bedroom with the brown paper bag. She looked out the window before she turned it upside down and the bars of lavender soap shaped like seashells and the card shaped like a rectangle came tumbling out. Asa's name graced the front of the card. A note graced the back. 'I know why you did it, Milly. Bella swings a golf club just like him.' Milly sat a long time on her old twin mattress, staring at the fleur-de-lis carved into the headboard, at the life that didn't belong to her and the life that did, before she placed the soaps beneath the velvet tray in her jewelry box and closed it. She never washed her hands with a single one of the seashell-shaped soaps, although from time to time, when Twiss had gone for a walk or to the barn, she'd open her jewelry box and examine her only secret. 'La joie de vivre.' The scent of lavender. Forgiveness. Age-old love.

For most of our history, walking wasn’t a choice. It was a given. Walking was our primary means of locomotion. But, today, you have to choose to walk. We ride to work. Office buildings and apartments have elevators. Department stores offer escalators. Airports use moving sidewalks. An afternoon of golf is spent riding in a cart. Even a ramble around your neighborhood can be done on a Segway. Why not just put one foot in front of the other? You don’t have to live in the country. It’s great to take a walk in the woods, but I love to roam city streets, too, especially in places like New York, London, or Rome, where you can’t go half a block without making some new discovery. A long stroll slows you down, puts things in perspective, brings you back to the present moment. In Wanderlust: A History of Walking (Viking, 2000), author Rebecca Solnit writes that, “Walking, ideally, is a state in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making a chord.” Yet in our hectic, goal-oriented culture, taking a leisurely walk isn’t always easy. You have to plan for it. And perhaps you should. Walking is good exercise, but it is also a recreation, an aesthetic experience, an exploration, an investigation, a ritual, a meditation. It fosters health and joie de vivre. Cardiologist Paul Dudley White once said, “A vigorous five-mile walk will do more good for an unhappy but otherwise healthy adult than all the medicine and psychology in the world.” A good walk is anything but pedestrian. It lengthens your life. It clears, refreshes, provokes, and repairs the mind. So lace up those shoes and get outside. The most ancient exercise is still the best.

« Écoute, Egor Pétrovitch, lui dit-il. Qu’est ce que tu fais de toi ? Tu te perds seulement avec ton désespoir. Tu n’as ni patience ni courage. Maintenant, dans un accès de tristesse, tu dis que tu n’as pas de talent. Ce n’est pas vrai. Tu as du talent ; je t’assure que tu en as. Je le vois rien qu’à la façon dont tu sens et comprends l’art. Je te le prouverai par toute ta vie. Tu m’as raconté ta vie d’autrefois. À cette époque aussi le désespoirte visitait sans que tu t’en rendisses compte. À cette époque aussi, ton premier maître, cet homme étrange, dont tu m’as tant parlé, a éveillé en toi, pour la première fois, l’amour de l’art et a deviné ton talent. Tu l’as senti alors aussi fortement que maintenant. Mais tu ne savais pas ce qui se passait en toi. Tu ne pouvais pas vivre dans la maison du propriétaire, et tu ne savais toi-même ce que tu désirais. Ton maître est mort trop tôt. Il t’a laissé seulement avec des aspirations vagues et, surtout, il ne t’a pas expliqué toimême. Tu sentais le besoin d’une autre route plus large, tu pressentais que d’autres buts t’étaient destinés, mais tu ne comprenais pas comment tout cela se ferait et, dans ton angoisse, tu as haï tout ce qui t’entourait alors. Tes six années de misère ne sont pas perdues. Tu as travaillé, pensé, tu as reconnu et toi-même et tes forces ; tu comprends maintenant l’art et ta destination. Mon ami, il faut avoir de la patience et du courage. Un sort plus envié que le mien t’est réservé. Tu es cent fois plus artiste que moi, mais que Dieu te donne même la dixième partie de ma patience. Travaille, ne bois pas, comme te le disait ton bonpropriétaire, et, principalement, commence par l’a, b, c. « Qu’est-ce qui te tourmente ? La pauvreté, la misère ? Mais la pauvreté et la misère forment l’artiste. Elles sont inséparables des débuts. Maintenant personne n’a encore besoin de toi ; personne ne veut te connaître. Ainsi va le monde. Attends, ce sera autre chose quand on saura que tu as du talent. L’envie, la malignité, et surtout la bêtise t’opprimeront plus fortement que la misère. Le talent a besoin de sympathie ; il faut qu’on le comprenne. Et toi, tu verras quelles gens t’entoureront quand tu approcheras du but. Ils tâcheront de regarder avec mépris ce qui s’est élaboré en toi au prix d’un pénible travail, des privations, des nuits sans sommeil. Tes futurs camarades ne t’encourageront pas, ne te consoleront pas. Ils ne t’indiqueront pas ce qui en toi est bon et vrai. Avec une joie maligne ils relèveront chacune de tes fautes. Ils te montreront précisément ce qu’il y a de mauvais en toi, ce en quoi tu te trompes, et d’un air calme et méprisant ils fêteront joyeusement chacune de tes erreurs. Toi, tu esorgueilleux et souvent à tort. Il t’arrivera d’offenser une nullité qui a de l’amour-propre, et alors malheur à toi : tu seras seul et ils seront plusieurs. Ils te tueront à coups d’épingles. Moi même, je commence à éprouver tout cela. Prends donc des forces dès maintenant. Tu n’es pas encore si pauvre. Tu peux encore vivre ; ne néglige pas les besognes grossières, fends du bois, comme je l’ai fait un soir chez de pauvres gens. Mais tu es impatient ; l’impatience est ta maladie. Tu n’as pas assez de simplicité ; tu ruses trop, tu réfléchis trop, tu fais trop travailler ta tête. Tu es audacieux en paroles et lâche quand il faut prendra l’archet en main. Tu as beaucoup d’amour-propre et peu de hardiesse. Sois plus hardi, attends, apprends, et si tu ne comptes pas sur tes forces, alors va au hasard ; tu as de la chaleur, du sentiment, peut-être arriveras-tu au but. Sinon, va quand même au hasard. En tout cas tu ne perdras rien, si le gain est trop grand. Vois-tu, aussi, le hasard pour nous est une grande chose. »

26 octobre. Oui, mon cher Wilhelm, je me persuade chaque jour davantage que l’existence d’une créature est peu de chose, bien peu de chose. Une amie de Charlotte était venue la voir, et je passai dans la chambre voisine pour prendre un livre, et je ne pouvais lire : alors je pris une plume pour essayer d’écrire. Je les entendais causer doucement : elles se racontaient l’une à l’autre des choses indifférentes, des nouvelles de la ville ; que l’une se mariait, que l’autre était malade, très-malade ; elle avait une toux sèche, la figure décharnée ; il lui prenait des faiblesses. « Je ne donnerais pas un sou de sa vie, » disait l’une. « N. N. est aussi fort mal, » dit Charlotte. « II est enflé, » reprit l’amie Et mon imagination me transportait vivement au chevet de ces malheureux ; je voyais avec quelle répugnance ils tournaient le dos à la vie ; avec quel…. Wilhelm, et mes deux petites dames parlaient de cela précisément comme on parle d’un étranger qui meurt…. Et quand je porte les yeux autour de moi, quand je regarde cette chambre et, tout alentour, les habits de.Charlotte et les papiers d’Albert, et ces meubles auxquels je suis maintenant si accoutumé, même cet encrier, je me dis : « Vois ce que tu es’pour cette maison ! Tout pour tous. Tes amis te considèrent ; tu fais souvent leur joie, et il semble à ton cœur, qu’il ne pourrait vivre sans eux ; et pourtant…, si tu venais à mourir, si tu disparaissais de ce cercle, sentiraient-ils, combien de temps sentiraient-ils, le vide que ta perte ferait dans leur existence ? combien de temps ?… » Ah ! l’homme est si éphémère, qu’aux lieux mêmes où il a l’entière certitude de son être, où il grave la seule véritable impression de sa présence dans le souvenir, dans l’âme de ses amis, là même, il doit s’effacer, disparaître, disparaître promptement !

joie de vivre.

I guess I must have verbally expressed my disappointment over losing the online auction for my kickass boots, since Becca said, "You sure do swear a lot." I shrugged and pointed at the swear jar. "I'm supposed to put a dollar in it every time I curse. But I don't think I'm that bad." I didn't add that at the apartment my roommate, Gina, and I shared, she'd installed a swear jar, too. "You're that bad," Becca said. "You said the F-word, like, five times in a row." I tried not to sound indignant. "Swearing is a proven stress reliever. You should try it instead of doing that to yourself." I nodded toward her bandaged arm. "When I'm under a lot of stress, dropping a couple of f-bombs makes me feel a lot better." "What have you got to feel stressed about?" She looked around the office. "This doesn't seem like such a hard job." "Oh yeah? You don't know the half of it." My job wasn't the problem. It was my personal life that was currently going down the toilet. "I'm not even getting paid for this." "What?" Becca came out of her daze a little, seeming genuinely surprised, but not enough to let go of the horse pendant. "How come?" "Because there are, like, nine hundred applicants with way more experience than people my age for every job that comes available. We all have to work for free just to get some experience, so we can put it on our résumés so we can maybe get a paying job someday, but there's no guarantee we will. Oh, right, I forgot they don't mention this in high school. You''re still brimming with hope and joie de vivre.

L’excitation et le plaisir occasionnés par la multiplication et l’intensification des stimulations sensorielles, des divertissements bruyants, scintillants, frénétiques et sensuels ne peuvent pas remplacer cette paix intérieure et la joie de vivre qu’elle engendre.

Posséder quelque chose n’ajoute pas de sens à la vie, mais vivre des moments, oui! Alors quand vient le temps de posséder quelque chose, il faut en maximiser l’utilité et se demander quel sera le bénéfice ou la joie qu’on retirera de chaque dollar payé.

It’s interesting that the phrase joie de vivre is probably foreign.

joie de vivre

Me voici donc prêt à me libérer de mes anciens attachements pour pouvoir me consacrer pleinement à la recherche du bien suprême. Un doute pourtant me retient… Ce choix n’est-il pas dangereux ? Les plaisirs, les richesses et les honneurs ne sont certes pas des biens suprêmes, mais au moins, ils existent… Ce sont des biens certains. Alors que ce bien suprême qui est censé me combler en permanence de joie n’est pour l’instant qu’une supposition de mon esprit… Ne suis-je pas en train de m’engager dans une voie périlleuse ? Non : à la réflexion je vois bien que je ne cours aucun risque en changeant de vie : c’est au contraire en continuant à vivre comme avant que je courrais le plus grand danger. Car l’attachement aux biens relatifs est un mal certain puisque aucun d’eux ne peut m’apporter le bonheur !!! Au contraire, la recherche des moyens du bonheur est un bien certain : elle seule peut m’offrir la possibilité d’être un jour réellement heureux, ou au moins plus heureux… Le simple fait de comprendre cela me détermine à prendre définitivement et fermement la résolution de me détacher immédiatement de la recherche des plaisirs, des richesses et des honneurs, pour me consacrer en priorité à la création de mon bonheur, c’est-à-dire à la culture des joies les plus solides et les plus durables, par la recherche des biens véritables. Au moment même où cette pensée jaillit, je sens apparaître en moi un immense sentiment d’enthousiasme, une sorte de libération de mon esprit. J’éprouve un incroyable soulagement, comme si j’avais attendu ce moment toute ma vie. Une joie toute nouvelle vient de se lever en moi, une joie que je n’avais jamais ressentie auparavant : la joie de la liberté que je viens d’acquérir en décidant de ne vivre désormais que pour créer mon bonheur. J’ai l’impression d’avoir échappé à immense danger… Comme si je me trouvais à présent en sécurité sur le chemin du salut… Car même si je ne suis pas encore sauvé, même si je ne sais pas encore en quoi consistent exactement ces biens absolus, ni même s’il existe réellement un bien suprême, je me sens déjà sauvé d’une vie insensée, privée d’enthousiasme et vouée à une éternelle insatisfaction… J’ai un peu l’impression d’être comme ces malades qui sont proches d’une mort certaine s’ils ne trouvent pas un remède, n’ayant pas d’autre choix que de rassembler leurs forces pour chercher ce remède sauveur. Comme eux je ne suis certes pas certain de le découvrir, mais comme eux, je ne peux pas faire autrement que de placer toute mon espérance dans sa quête. Je l’ai maintenant compris avec une totale clarté, les plaisirs, les richesses et l’opinion d’autrui sont inutiles et même le plus souvent néfastes pour être dans le bonheur. Mieux : je sais à présent que mon détachement à leur égard est ce qu’il y a de plus nécessaire dans ma vie, si je veux pouvoir vivre un jour dans la joie. Du reste, que de maux ces attachements n’ont-ils pas engendré sur la Terre, depuis l’origine de l’humanité ! N’est-ce pas toujours le désir de les posséder qui a dressé les hommes les uns contre les autres, engendrant la violence, la misère et même parfois la mort des hommes qui les recherchaient, comme en témoigne chaque jour encore le triste spectacle de l’humanité ? N’est-ce pas l’impuissance à se détacher de ces faux biens qui explique le malheur qui règne presque partout sur le Terre ? Au contraire, chacun peut voir que les sociétés et les familles vraiment heureuses sont formées d’êtres forts, paisibles et doux qui passent leur vie à construire leur joie et celle des autres sans accorder beaucoup d’importance ni aux plaisirs, ni aux richesses, ni aux honneurs…

L’art dionysien lui aussi veut nous convaincre de l’éternelle joie qui est attachée à l’existence ; seulement, nous ne devons pas chercher cette joie dans les apparences, mais derrière les apparences. Nous devons reconnaître que tout ce qui naît doit être prêt pour un douloureux déclin, nous sommes forcés de plonger notre regard dans l’horrible de l’existence individuelle — et cependant la terreur ne doit pas nous glacer : une consolation métaphysique nous arrache momentanément à l’engrenage des migrations éphémères. Nous sommes véritablement, pour de courts instants, l’essence primordiale elle-même, et nous en ressentons l’appétence et la joie effrénées à l’existence ; la lutte, la torture, l’anéantissement des apparences, nous apparaissent désormais comme nécessaires, en face de l’intempérante profusion d’innombrables formes de vie qui se pressent et se heurtent, en présence de la fécondité surabondante de l’universelle Volonté. L’aiguillon furieux de ces tourments vient nous blesser au moment même où nous nous sommes, en quelque sorte, identifiés à l’incommensurable joie primordiale à l’existence, où nous pressentons, dans l’extase dionysienne, l’immuabilité et l’éternité de cette joie. En dépit de l’effroi et de la pitié, nous goûtons la félicité de vivre, non pas en tant qu’individus, mais en tant que la vie une, totale, confondus et absorbés dans sa joie créatrice.

Desconfío de los vegetarianos. Es instintivo. No los tengo por afines. Percibo en ellos una ausencia de joie de vivre que casa mal con mi carácter

I ask what inscription she'd have on her headstone. She gives it some thought, then says, 'Was meant to be enjoying herself but polished the doorknob instead.

Joe showed me his neat kennels and his complement of Labradors, and I met Mr and Mrs Fettle, the elderly couple who looked after the daily management. Joe seemed to have plenty of time to spare. ‘But,’ he said with a sideways glance, ‘you can fully train a Labrador while a spaniel’s still scratching itself.’ He was waiting for me to point out that the Labrador, being a retriever and therefore expected to do no more than wait beside his master until there was quarry to be fetched, had little to learn beyond what a puppy did naturally, while a spaniel had to hunt without chasing, distinguish wounded game from that which was sitting tight and resist the constant temptation to chase. There was even a vestige of truth in what he said. Because of their eagerness and sheer joie de vivre, spaniels can be hard work.

Karmas arise from those mental habits that are strongest, closest, most frequent and most familiar to us. If we are habitually angry, self-centered and cause harm to others, such thoughts an only yield negative karmic outcomes. Conversely, a mind that is peaceful, gentle and benevolent will only produce positive outcomes. Rejoicing in the successes of others helps us overcome jealousy. We are less likely to be resentful when we understand how the triumphs of others offer a pathway to our own fulfillment. If we wish to recapture our joie de vivre, we should do something, often, that makes our heart sing. Engage in an activity for no reason other than for the uncomplicated happiness it brings. We may amplify that happiness by reminding ourselves that whatever bliss we experience comes not from the music or the water or the creative expression itself, but from our mind. It is the positive result of a cause created in the distant past, by the unknown being we once were.

Joie de Vivre

Don’t waste a fine spring day, Jonah. There’s not as many of them in a lifetime as you think there will be.

joie de vivre.

La vie est le visage de lumière de l'amour, la mort est à face ténébreuse de la haine.

Alors, je ne sais pas pourquoi, il y a quelque chose qui a crevé en moi. Je me suis mis à crier à plein gosier et je l'ai insulté et je lui ai dit de ne pas prier. Je l'avais pris par le collet de sa soutane. Je déversais sur lui tout le fond de mon cœur avec des bondissements mêlés de joie et de colère. Il avait l'air si certain, n'est-ce pas ? Pourtant, aucune de ses certitudes ne valait un cheveu de femme. Il n'était même pas sûr d'être en vie puisqu'il vivait comme un mort. Moi, j'avais l'air d'avoir les mains vides. Mais j'étais sûr de moi, sûr de tout, plus sûr que lui, sur de ma vie et de cette mort qui allait venir. Oui, je n'avais que cela. Mais du moins, je tenais cette vérité autant qu'elle me tenait. J'avais eu raison, j'avais encore raison, j'avais toujours raison. J'avais vécu de telle façon et j'aurais pu vivre de telle autre. J'avais fait ceci et je n'avais pas fait cela. Je n'avais pas fait telle chose alors que j'avais fait cette autre. Et après ? C'était comme si j'avais attendu pendant tout le temps cette minute et cette petite aube où je serais justifié.

I was least attractive at age thirteen. Puberty ensnared me in its sebaceous, cysty grip. I was too skinny, my face hadn’t grown into my teeth and my hair resembled a Brillo pad. I outgrew Thirteen, but she lives on inside me like a succubus ever draining me of my joie de vivre. There is no way in fucking hell I’m a Suicide Blonde dancing for INXS on that list.

Il faut savoir sourire dans la chute aussi bien qu´élever dans la butte.

Earthquake, sir, BIG earthquake!’ he repeated enthusiastically. He was bursting with eagerness to talk; so, for that matter, was everyone else. An extraordinary joie de vivre had come over them all as soon as the shaky feeling departed from their legs. An earthquake is such fun when it is over. It is so exhilarating to reflect that you are not, as you well might be, lying dead under a heap of

Désarçonner par ses paroles chaleureuse que tu m'a dites pensées qu'une âme éblouissante tel que la tienne. Dans se monde déchirer ne pouvais plus persister.Enjoué que tu mes montrer que je m'étais tromper. Marty B.M

Cripes, just listen to that desperation mixed with a wild joie de vivre. That doesn't come out of nothing. They'll be able to hear that a massive eruption once rocked the world and scattered pain and passion in it's wake.

It wasn’t just a physical beauty with Sally; she had ‘joie de vivre’ as the French call it, true joyfulness of being alive. It spilled out of her and made everything around her seem brighter, she charmed everyone, and yes, I was caught up in her spell.

Though I have not lived in New York City for more than two decades, these storytellers – from the United States, Britain and Canada – have touched my heart with their openness, inspired me with their joie de vivre and deepened my appreciation for my hometown as a worldwide phenomenon. Welcome to our New York.

It is therefore not going beyond what is fully granted by facts, to maintain that a general loss of interest in life, of the joie de vivre, the cutting of all the bonds of intense interest, which bind members of a human community to existence, will result in their giving up the desire to live altogether, and that therefore they will fall an easy prey to any disease, as well as fail to multiply.