1 She could not communicate her joy.
2 The joy of a caged bird was in her voice.
3 There was neither real sorrow in it nor real joy.
4 She showed no sign of joy when her eyes rested on Romeo.
5 The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty becomes sluggish.
6 One should sympathize with the colour, the beauty, the joy of life.
7 The joy of Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia were mine also.
8 He was dominated by the carelessness of happiness, by the high indifference of joy.
9 When he entered, she looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy came over her.
10 A look of joy came into his eyes, as if he had recognized himself for the first time.
11 It seemed to me that all my life had been narrowed to one perfect point of rose-coloured joy.
12 He knew in what strange heavens they were suffering, and what dull hells were teaching them the secret of some new joy.
13 All that it really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past, and that the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy.
14 To you at least she was always a dream, a phantom that flitted through Shakespeare's plays and left them lovelier for its presence, a reed through which Shakespeare's music sounded richer and more full of joy.
15 He felt a terrible joy at the thought that some one else was to share his secret, and that the man who had painted the portrait that was the origin of all his shame was to be burdened for the rest of his life with the hideous memory of what he had done.
16 There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride more than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of joy, greater than any joy they brought, or could ever bring, to the senses.
17 It was with an almost cruel joy--and perhaps in nearly every joy, as certainly in every pleasure, cruelty has its place--that he used to read the latter part of the book, with its really tragic, if somewhat overemphasized, account of the sorrow and despair of one who had himself lost what in others, and the world, he had most dearly valued.
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