A Quote by Joyce Giraud

I'm a happily declared chocoholic. I keep it everywhere, even my nightstand. — © Joyce Giraud
I'm a happily declared chocoholic. I keep it everywhere, even my nightstand.
Contentment and happiness! Do everything happily. Walk, talk, sit happily; even if you complain against somebody, do it happily.
In every single one of my purses, even my little satin clutch and my tiny Chanel bag, I always carry a lint roller. I keep them in every drawer, in every desk and nightstand. I just buy those at the dollar store in bulk.
For a while, gently bumping into my nightstand meant a pile of 50 books clattering onto my head and the floor. After the 10th time this happened, I moved most of the books to a shelf in the spare room. Now, my nightstand is sort of like a bookish country club. And not all books get in.
The bedroom in my apartment is far too small to hold a nightstand. There is, however, this bookshelf. Yes, I stow whatever I'm reading on the lower shelf, but more importantly, it's where I keep a collection of ghost books.
When you're pregnant, you go out and buy every single book; you have this stack of books on your nightstand, but there was nothing that was preparing me for anything even remotely resembling what my life was going to look like.
I am not at all a chocoholic. I would rather eat anchovy toast.
I absolutely adore sweets, especially the exotic variety, and am a fanatical chocoholic.
It isn't life, liberty and pursuit of happiness for some - it is declared for all of us. So let's celebrate America by defending the right to vote - for every eligible citizen, everywhere in America.
I will be capable of loving, regardless of whether I am loved in return, Of giving, when I have nothing, Of working happily, even in the midst of difficulties, Of holding out my hand, even when utterly alone and abandoned, Of drying my tears, even while I weep, Of believing, even when no one believes in me.
You have haters everywhere, you have doubters everywhere. Just keep it moving, do what you do, do the best you can possibly do, and just be appreciative as the where you are and where God has taken you to.
That idea is strange to me. People keep on loving? People keep on loving even if you are not there in their face everyday to remind them? People keep on loving even if they no longer see you at all? People keep on loving even if they are loving someone else? Impossible: to believe you can be loved in absence when you don't even know how it feels to be loved when you are there.
Paris in the early morning has a cheerful, bustling aspect, a promise of delicious things to come, a positive smell of coffee and croissants, quite peculiar to itself. The people welcome a new day as if they were certain of liking it, the shopkeepers pull up their blinds serene in the expectation of good trade, the workers go happily to their work, the people who have sat up all night in night-clubs go happily to their rest, the orchestra of motor-car horns, of clanking trams, of whistling policemen tunes up for the daily symphony, and everywhere is joy.
Christianity has done its utmost to close the circle and declared even doubt to be sin. One is supposed to be cast into belief without reason, by a miracle, and from then on to swim in it as in the brightest and least ambiguous of elements: even a glance towards land, even the thought that one perhaps exists for something else as well as swimming, even the slightest impulse of our amphibious nature
Guilty as charged. Perl is happily ugly, and happily derivative.
…she was one of those happily created beings who please without effort, make friends everywhere, and take life so gracefully and easily that less fortunate souls are tempted to believe that such are born under a lucky star.
The earth is a used Kleenex on the universe's nightstand.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!