Quotes About Tears

Black Tragedy lets slip her grim disguise and shows you laughing lips and roguish eyes; but when, unmasked, gay Comedy appears, how wan her cheeks are, and what heavy tears!

With the tears a Land hath shed Their graves should ever be green.

Our sins are debts that none can pay but Christ. It is not our tears, but His blood; it is not our sighs, but His sufferings, that can testify for our sins. Christ must pay all, or we are prisoners forever.

I knew that the tears of adults were wetter, saltier, and much, much sadder than those of a child

So, then, Oxford Street, stonyhearted stepmother, thou that listenest to the sighs of orphans, and drinkest the tears of children, at length I was dismissed from thee.

So blended and intertwisted in this life are occasions of laughter and of tears

Yet some feelings, though not deeper or more passionate, are more tender than others: and often, when I walk at this time in Oxford Street by dreamy lamp-light, and hear those airs played on a barrel-organ which years ago solaced me and my dear companion (as I must always call her) I shed tears

And when I was told insultingly to cease 'my girlish tears,' that word 'girlish' had no sting for me, except as a verbal echo to the one eternal thought of my heart - that a girl was the sweetest thing I, in my short life, had known - that a girl it was who had crowned the earth with beauty, and had opened to my thirst fountains of pure celestial love, from which, in this world, I was to drink no more.

For we both know my prognosis and what it will mean to us. I see your tears and I worry more about you than I do about me, because I fear the pain I know you will go through. There are no words to express my sorrow for this, and I am at a loss for words.

THE TEARS ... streamed down, and I let them flow as freely as they would, making of them a pillow for my heart. On them it rested. -AUGUSTINE, Confessions IX, i z

The tears of God are the meaning of history.

When you get older, it feels like happy memories and sad memories are pretty much the same thing. It is all just emotion in the end. And any of it can make you weep.

I burst into tears and I cry and cry until it feels as though it is not salt and water being squeezed from my eyes, but blood.

Those big blue eyes were swimming, and he was afraid that if the first tear fell, he would break and carry her off anywhere she wanted to go.

Alone in her shelter, she allowed herself tears. When her shelter cooled to the touch she called to Gull, "Coming out!" She eased her head out into the smoky air, looked over at Gull. She imaged they both looked like a couple of sweaty, parboiled turtles climbing out of their shells. "Hello, gorgeous." She laughed. It hurt her throat, but she laughed. "Hey, handsome.

Ah, kiss me, love, and miss me, love, and dry your bitter tears. (Irish Pub Song)

Youth and age, she thought. Beginnings and endings, connections and constancy. And, love. She snapped the embrace, but that wasn't it. She snapped the glitter of tears, and still, no. Then Alison lowered her forehead to her grandmother's, and even as her lips curved, a single tear slid down her cheek while the dress glowed and glittered behind them. Perfect. The blue butterfly.

So She watched and listened instead. She watched Connor reach over to flick a tear from Meara's cheek as she minced onion, and caught the easy flirtation in the gesture in his eyes. If you were mine, Meara my love, he said, I'd ban onions from the house so you'd never shed a tear. If I were yours, She shot back, I'd be shedding them over more onions

six, and by then, according to the doctor, she'd be covered with the itchy rash that was now confined to her belly and chest. It was going around, the pediatrician had said. It would run its course. Easy for him to say, Spence thought. It wasn't his daughter whose eyes were teary. It wasn't his baby with a hundred-and-one-degree

That was really good driving, Maddy told her. Yeah, thanks. Here, baby. Here. Pilar turned her, held her when the shakes came. And, holding her, reached out for Maddy. Here, baby, she said again. Maddy pressed herself into that circle of comfort and let the tears come.

He told you not to cry, but tears keep leaking out of your eyes. And you're glad, because those tears belong to you. They're yours. Your tears. He can't have them. He can't touch them. They're all yours. (182)

All these thousands of miles later, all these different people I've been, and it's still the same story. Why is it you feel like a dope if you laugh alone, but that's usually how you end up crying? How is it you can keep mutating and still be the same deadly virus?

Your every emotion goes right over the top with a big audience. It's either laughter or tears, with no in-between. Those tigers in zoos, they must have a big opera all the time.

It is okay to cry, as long as you fake it.