bubble of joy

A little bubble of joy lit up inside me.

A great bubble of joy welled up in him.

Little champagne bubbles of joy had seemed to rise in her, tickling every nerve ending.

I realize we've never been angels, but I'm going to hang on to this little bubble of joy for as long as I can.

Patricia Luisa Vasquez existed in a bubble of joy, independent of all that had gone before, not caring what would come after.

A mere bubble of joy, it floated amid the boundless grief, tiny, unimportant, yet more potent than anything in the boundless universe of his mind.

Not the buoyant bubble of joy, not the hard clarity of examination, but something else: sunshine, soft through the conservatory glass, where two children ran in and out.

A strange, deep bubble of joy had filled him since the night he'd healed Brandark-or helped Tomanak heal him, or whatever had happened-and the wild, restless vitality of the sea flowed into him.

She felt as if hundreds of bubbles were rising within her, too, chains of tiny, bright bubbles of joy: but a part of her acted like a cork to contain the effervescent emotion, to keep it securely under pressure, bottled up, safely contained.