Quotes About Crying

I don't care. I don't care. He was crying now, crying so hard he could barely breathe.

These the seeds of vocation. From these he had fled into love, but now the love had grown cold, and in the night he heard it whistling through the chambers of his heart like a lost and gently crying wind.

My kids say if there's any family dinner that doesn't result in somebody crying, it's not a good dinner. They cry because it helps relieve them of a guilt or some onerous emotional burden. It's like a family tradition.

His face was so covered in wrinkles that it was impossible to tell from his expression whether he was laughing or crying. I pressed my hand against his back.

It was so sick, I started laughing," she says. "I laughed and cried at the same time. That's when it struck me that I can't take my life as long as I can still laugh.

The wind rose here, as plangent as a human voice crying out.

I think I'm going to cry, this is crazy." "No, you're just processing. Go ahead and cry." "I thought men got nervous around crying females." "I'm a Marine, remember? We're trained to handle anything.

I often want to cry. That is the only advantage women have over men—at least they can cry.

Los hombres no lloran, le repetía su padre. ¿Y por qué los hombres no podían llorar? Alguna vez debía romper las reglas impuestas y con decisión se lanzó sobre su cama y sollozó sobre su almohada de borra.

Its genesis: inside the kingdom of night, I witnessed a strange trial. Three rabbis-all erudite and pious men-decided one winter evening to indict God for allowing his children to be massacred, I remember: I was there, and I felt like crying. But there nobody cried.

I was a ten in sadness when I was crying, Mommy, but now I am a six. Whoops, he says, it just went down to five. He comes out of the shower and puts on his pajamas. Now it's just a three. He brushes his teeth. Now it's all gone, he says. We were with Daddy when he died.

She cried until the tears were no longer able to meet the demands of her sadness

Once the interlude was over and I was released, I fled the room and, taking the stairs two at a time, found refuge in a dank corner of the basement filled with potatoes and mice. I stayed there until dinner, doing my best to stop crying by staring at the glowing face of my father's wristwatch.

For my first wedding, I cried all the way down the aisle. My fake eyelash came off. My nose was red. My eyes were swollen. I'm not one of those pretty criers.

I can cry all day long - that's easy for me.

I usually don't cry at movies, although I will get sad. I'm okay with it, though. It's good to make people cry.

Giving people the opportunity to sit in a dark theater together and have emotions in public, whether they're laughing or crying - that's what makes me happy.

I didn't trust the film clips we'd been using to induce the emotions we wanted in infants (it takes a more developed comic sensibility to find bathing gorillas amusing, after all), so I decided to go with the basics: video clips of an actress laughing or crying.

Then I heard it again. Like a baby crying. Maybe the police had come and arrested the Jews so fast that they hadn't taken the baby. Or maybe they just didn't take babies; what good were they in labor camp?

I had discovered, or rediscovered, that crying is a pleasure—that it can be a pleasure beyond all reckoning if your head is pressed in your mother's waist and her hands are on your back, and if she happens to be wearing clean clothes.

He found it so easy and so pleasant to cry that he didn't try to stop for a while, until he realized he was forcing his sobs a little, exaggerating their depth with unnecessary shudders. … The whole point of crying is to quit before you coined it up. The whole point of grief itself was to cut it out while it was still honest, while it still meant something. Because the thing was so easily corrupted

There's my baby! I cried, quite carried away, There's my poochiekins! ... Sadie, My dad said firmly, Please do not refer to the devourer of souls as 'poochiekins'.

Go ahead and cry. Tears are lubricant for the soul. Males would be better off if they cried as easily as women

curled up and indulged in that worst of vices, self-pity, doing it thoroughly, with plenty of tears. I don't see anything wrong with crying; it lubricates the psyche.