My great pleasure is creation—of this I never tire. Some of my guests have complained of a gentle melancholy which hangs in the air; I agree that the mood exists. The explanation, I believe, arises from the fugacity of beauty, the tragic pavanne to which all of us step.

Thought is the greatest of pleasures — pleasure itself is only imagination — have you ever enjoyed anything more than your dreams?

Life is not life at all without delight.

There are two supreme pleasures in life. One is ideal, the other real. The ideal is when a man receives the seals of office from the hands of his Sovereign. The real pleasure comes when he hands them back.

God or Enlightenment is the ultimate pleasure, uninterrupted happiness. No such thing exists. Your wanting something that does not exist is the root of your problem. Transformation, moksha, and all that stuff are just variations of the same theme: permanent happiness. The body can't take uninterrupted pleasure for long; it would be destroyed. Wanting a fictitious permanent state of happiness is actually a serious neurological problem.

There is only one pleasure—that of being alive. All the rest is misery.

To admire is, to me, questionless, the highest pleasure of life.

Ordinarily the enjoyment of sensual pleasures is the highest and only happiness of the average man. There is no doubt a kind of momentary happiness in the anticipation, gratification and retrospection of such fleeting material pleasures, but they are illusive and temporary. According to the Buddha non-attachment is a greater bliss.

Art and religion (they are the same thing, in the end, of course) have given man the only happiness he has ever had.

The creation is for bliss. It is a play, and the play is only for enjoyment.

There is no joy equal to that of being able to work for all humanity and doing what you're doing well.

It is in the compelling zest of high adventure and of victory, and in creative action, that man finds his supreme joys.

There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.

There are few joys to compare with the telling of a well-told tale.