| C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917. | | | | Delight |
| | | A sip is the most that mortals are permitted from any goblet of delight. A. Bronson Alcott. | 1 |
| I am convinced that we have a degree of delight, and that no small one, in the real misfortunes and pains of others. Burke. | 2 |
| | These violent delights have violent ends |
| And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, |
| Which as they kiss consume. |
Shakespeare. | 3 |
| | A voice of greeting from the wind was sent; |
| The mists enfolded me with soft white arms; |
| The birds did sing to lap me in content, |
| The rivers wove their charms,— |
| And every little daisy in the grass |
| Did look up in my face, and smile to see me pass! |
R. H. Stoddard. | 4 |
| The last excessive feelings of delight are always grave. Leigh Hunt. | 5 | | |
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