Quotes About Tears

The far-off interest of tears.

Chorus of Clouds We are full of sighs, full of glances, We are full of laughter And sometimes we wear your faces. We are not far from you. Who knows how much of your blood rose And stained us? Who knows how many tears you have shed Because of our weeping? How much longing formed us? We play at dying, Accustom you gently to death. You, the inexperienced, who learn nothing in the nights. Many angels are given you But you do not see them.

Unshed tears of an unrequited desire for vengeance are exhausting and require privacy.

God, with a wisdom I can't claim to understand, called you home a long time ago, and the tears I shed that night have never seemed to dry.

And some time after midnight on that clear October evening, Noah was overcome with longing. And if anyone had seen him, they would have seen what looked like an old man, someone who'd aged a lifetime in just a couple of hours. Someone bent over in his rocker with his face in his hands and tears in his eyes. He didn't know how to stop them.

Ryan Murphy's 'Hollywood,' about the beginnings of the film industry, made me laugh and cry.

men call it the tyranny of tears, it is an iron tyranny- no man could be so cruel, so devishlish,as a woman with her weakness, recrimination, convenient ailments, nerves and tears. We men are all weak as water before the primitive devices of Eve. I was patient at first, many years. '

Tears swam in her sky blue eyes and his heart squeezed down like a vise. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed not to press his palm over his chest. "Damn it," he swore at her between clenched teeth. "Stop with the tears." She had to stop. He felt a little desperate. -Airiana & Maxim

Waldemar made a big sentimental scene with me before he left. He begged me to come with them. I refused. Tears came into his eyes. We Aryans have to stand together, he said. I am sure he said this without thinking. That's the disgusting power of propaganda: the Nazis have scattered such millions of these poisonous words around that you are apt to find one of them unexpectedly inside your own mouth.

Heavens can witness I love none but you: From my embracements thus he breaks away. O that mine arms could close this isle about, That I might pull him to me where I would! Or that these tears that drizzle from mine eyes Had power to mollify his stony heart, That when I had him we might never part.

I'm thinking of being a professional mourner. How hard can it be? Tear at your hair, sing a dirge or two, take the rest of the week off.

So, there on the front step, he decided to go with total hysteria. He started breathing hard, pumping up some tears, got a good whimpering sob going, then opened the door with a dieseling back sniffle. He fell onto the welcome mat and let loose with a full fire-truck-siren wail.

She lowered her head until it was at his level. He stroked the line of her jaw, and then pressed his forehead against her hard snout and held her as tightly as he could, her scales sharp against his fingers. Hot tears began to slide down his cheeks. 'Why do you cry?' she asked. 'Because... I'm lucky enough to be bonded with you.' 'Little one.

These books are my friends, my companions. They make me laugh and cry and find meaning in life.

I'm serious, now let me know every time you see her cry. The thought brings me great joy. Hope.

But listen, there will be more joy in heaven over the tears of a repentant sinner than over the white robes of a hundred just men.

The women laughed and wept; the crowd stamped their feet enthusiastically, for at that moment Quasimodo was really beautiful. He was handsome — this orphan, this foundling, this outcast.

He who does not weep does not see.

When you shall have learned to know, and to love, you will still suffer. The day is born in tears. The luminous weep, if only over those in darkness.

However, he who says light does not, necessarily, say joy. People suffer in the light; excess burns. The flame is the enemy of the wing. To burn without ceasing to fly,—therein lies the marvel of genius. When you shall have learned to know, and to love, you will still suffer. The day is born in tears. The luminous weep, if only over those in darkness.

The past surged up before him facing the present; he compared them and sobbed. The silence of tears once opened, the despairing man writhed. He felt that he had been stopped short.

Shall we weep for all the innocent, all martyrs, all children, the lowly as well as the exalted? I agree to that. But in that case, as I have told you, we must go back further than '93, and our tears must begin before Louis XVII. I will weep with you over the children of kings, provided that you will weep with me over the children of the people.

It was ridiculous. She knew crying wouldn't help, because she cried in her sleep. Night after night she woke with tears on her cheeks, and none of it helped one bit. In fact, the opposite was true. The expression of grief didn't help. Only its suppression would get her through these hard times.

No sorries. We fought, we struggled, we hurt each other, so what? That's what love is, I think. It's all of it. Tears, anger, joy, struggle. Mostly, it's durable. It lasts.