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C.N. Douglas, comp.  Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical.  1917.
  A sip is the most that mortals are permitted from any goblet of delight.
A. Bronson Alcott.    
  I am convinced that we have a degree of delight, and that no small one, in the real misfortunes and pains of others.
        These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume.
        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.    
  The last excessive feelings of delight are always grave.
Leigh Hunt.    

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