happy - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Find your inner peace first, my love, because feeling happy is a thing that comes afterwards. If you can feel as centred with your eyes open as you so when they are closed, you'll feel a sense of self. Embrace that sense of yourself in quiet moments, sit a while and be still. Let the joys of small things bring a soft happiness, a sense that is akin to gratitude and awe. Then, when you have won that steadiness of the soul, you can help others be happy too.
Happy is what I feel when Oliver walks in the door, when I know for the rest of the evening he's all mine. It's not that he's fireworks and chatter; mostly he's so quiet, unwinding after a busy day. Just being near him lights me up inside, gives me a serenity I can never know without him being close. It's like the breaths I take aren't full when he's away, like the smiles I smile are incomplete somehow. Just lying next to him is my favourite place in the world. It's him that creates the warmth in my soul, him that fills me full of love and keeps the fire burning in my eyes. If that isn't happiness I don't know what is, so I'll let it be my own definition, the one I keep with me always.
When the sun rises casting the trees in their virescent hues and bringing the warm brown tones back to the earth, Loren feels something new. It's as if invisible holes were poked in her skin during the night and all her tension leeched out. Her steps feel lighter and she tilts her face toward the brilliant shafts breaking through the canopy above. "Perhaps," she wonders, "this is happy. This is what comes when a battle is over."
Everything in life is transitory, my love, it's just that somethings last longer than others. Every emotion is fleeting, every thought gives way to a new one. It isn't a reason to despair, but one to rejoice. If you were to make a necklace of beads you'd choose the prettiest for your string, and such is life also. Make your moments happy so that they come together to form something wonderful and unique that is your time under the sun.
"Happy," for Eli, was a relative term. He saw what it took for the rich to be happy, yet for the poor it was a slice of bread and shelter for the night. Happy was something that elevated the spirit, lifted one from the mire of whatever was normal. Maybe that's why he noticed Darla, she wasn't like that at all. She had an inner happiness, one utterly independent of the outside world. She smiled like it burst from within instead of being worn like an obligation in the way others did.
Stupid Eric is giggling again, unmanly it is, his muscles are shaking and tears stream from his half closed eyes. I hold my breath behind pursed lips to steel myself against the gales of laughter to come. They always do. I know what's happened, Sarah just told a lame joke and now their bonding over it in their j-crew vanilla clothes. Well I won't be here next week, I'm off to Hawaii by myself. The brochure looks amazing and I'm travelling first class all the way. Now Eric's telling some lame story about his kid, I know he is without listening to the words. His face is lit up brighter than a toothpaste commercial and he has that soft look on his face. Makes we wanna hurl. Thank God I've got a facial after work, I can put all this crap behind me and de-stress.
To Zac happiness was like a cloudless spring day; the kind of day when you don't notice the weather at all. The sky is blue, it isn't warm or cold and you've stopped noticing the delicate flowers that bloomed only a few weeks ago. It's perfect but quite untreasured until the rain comes. His childhood had always been happy, he'd just never acknowledged it, not to himself or anyone else. It was a house of discussion rather than argument; there had been chores and routine dinners; a dog to walk and feed. But now Mom was sick, her health had been something else he'd taken for granted. She'd always been there and always would, right? Folding laundry and telling him “you'll never guess what” stories. It struck him that something had just been removed from his life, his happiness. It was the springboard on which his whole life was based, it was the reason he could make friends, study and have wild nights with his friends. How was it he'd missed it all this time?
Gina locked the door and sent the seven dead bolts home. It was reinforced steel and set on a frame that was itself part of the structure of the entire wall. No-one was getting in unless she let them in at that wasn't going to happen. She pulled up her over-sized bean bag and sank right into it, letting a full ten minutes drift by before opening her ruck-sack of pilfered goodies. A slow smile spread over her gaunt features, this must be happiness. Nothing and no-one to interrupt her gourmet meal. She pulled out the chocolate bar and set it to one side, then she slid out the grapes and finally the roasted chicken. Then she pulled off her balaclava letting her long blonde hair fall freely. Before she knew it a whoop of delight was echoing off the bare walls, she had dinner and screw the pigs with their electric “toys” and surveillance network. She had it all figured out now, a secure den and food, the world was at her feet.
Lucy curled her fingers around the bouquet. At last she could release her past, let it float away into obscurity. Happiness flowed through her, warming her skin like the rays of an early summer sun. Her customary cautious grin exploded into a radiant smile that she had never worn before, not even as a small girl. Everything was going to be alright now, she had Evan and he had her. They were a team. They had been since high-school and from today no-one could separate them, for better or worse. She would never fear the darkness again because she would never be alone. The wind ruffled her simple white dress and from inside the organ began to play. Her brother tugged gently at her arm and lead the way up the aisle. It was a perfect start, a perfect day and Evan was her perfect match. Sure he snored sometimes, he spoke with his mouthful often and he played computer games until his eyes were square; but for her there would never be another.
As happy as a baboon in a banana tree. As happy as a clam at high tide. As happy as a hippo in mud. As happy as a shark in a shoal of sea bream. As happy as a kitty in a cream pie. As happy as a dog at a dinosaur dig.
As happy as a rat with Roquefort. As happy as a dragon in a princess parade. As happy as a tornado in a trailer park. As happy as a rabbit in a carrot field. As happy as a fire imp in an inferno.
The birdsong drifts as well as any summertime pollen. It comes as magical as any flute, as improvised as deep south jazz, and as soulful as love's kiss. In that moment I am present, feet still and heart open.