Euphoric State Quotes

Happiness is the relief after extreme tension

The experience of bliss will give you an insight into the very phenomenon of beauty. Not only does it make you beautiful, it suddenly transforms the whole world. The whole world becomes beautiful because the world reflects you, it is a mirror.

Life, when fully lived under a variety of cultural conditions, can be euphoric and optimistic; it can be a joy to experience and a wonder to behold.

The most wonderful thing in life is to be delirious and the most wonderful kind of delirium is being in love. In the morning mist, hazy and amorous, London was delirious. London squinted as it floated along, milky pink, without caring where it was going.

She had known happiness, exquisite happiness, intense happiness, and it silvered the rough waves a little more brightly, as daylight faded, and the blue went out of the sea and it rolled in waves of pure lemon which curved and swelled and broke upon the beach and the ecstasy burst in her eyes and waves of pure delight raced over the floor of her mind and she felt, It is enough! It is enough!

On many occasions when I am dancing I've felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists !

Tonight I'm stepping lightly and I'm feeling no pain.

Happiness is the intoxication produced by the moment of poise between a satisfactory past and an immediate future, rich with promise.

I really can't tell you the feeling I feel, like, being on stage: it's such a high; it's like running a marathon. You just can't get that feeling anywhere else.

Mania is a wonderful feeling.

Einstein was wrong! I"M the speed of like CRACKING through shivery rainbows and GOD the sky whirls and withers like a melting RAINBOW!

If by happiness you mean ecstasy ... Yes, I've known ecstasy, and it's a blessing to be able to say it because those who can say it are very few. But ecstasy doesn't last long and is seldom if ever repeated.

For a while I took Ecstacy when it was not very available over here. I took it simply because it made me feel that everything was wonderful.

Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.

The adrenaline is like nothing else. You might be tired or whatever else, but when you get on that stage and see people reacting there's nothing like it. It's a bit god-like - that feeling that nothing can feel better.

Life is an ecstasy. Life is sweet as nitrous oxide.

Those moments before a poem comes, when the heightened awareness comes over you, and you realize a poem is buried there somewhere, you prepare yourself. I run around, you know, kind of skipping around the house, marvelous elation. It’s as though I could fly.

Happiness is a very proud word of our whole cultural heritage.

Playing lifts you out of yourself into a delirious place.

There's no doubt that there's certain songs and arrangements of music that release a chemical reaction in my brain. This sounds a little goofy, but I really believe that. It's such a euphoric experience that I sort of want to chase that experience as often as possible.

I would like to go mad on one condition, namely, that I would become a happy madman, lively and always in a good mood, without any troubles and obsessions, laughing senselessly from morning to night.

Music has always taken me to another plane of existence.

Dean and I both swayed to the rhythm and the IT of our final excited joy in talking and living to the blank traced end of all innumerable riotous angelic particulars that had been lurking in our souls all our lives.

Happiness is a state of which you are unconscious. The moment you are aware that you are happy, you cease to be happy.

He's at ease, his body sculpted to the music, his shoulder searching the other shoulder, his right toe knowing the left knee, the height, the depth, the form, the control, the twist of his wrist, the bend of his elbow, the tilt of his neck, notes digging into arteries, and he is in the air now, forcing the legs up beyond muscular memory, one last press of the thighs, an elongation of form, a loosening of human contour, he goes higher and is skyheld.