Quotes About Sighs

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.

When, finally, she did sleep, it was the slumber of a watcher and waiter. Light, and full of sighs.

Dog sighs are some form of distilled truth. What does he know? What do dogs know? Ed sighs like he knows the truth about me and he loves me anyway.

Beauties of earth gather in your eyes so if you dream of me I am blessed within your sighs.

This was a woman with an entire vocabulary of sighs.

There had been no real affection either in his language or manners. Sighs and fine words had been given in abundance; but she could hardly devise any set of expressions, or fancy any tone of voice, less allied with real love.

The heart out of the bosom Was never given in vain; 'Tis paid with sighs a plenty And sold for endless rue." And I am two-and-twenty, And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true. Into

Words may be false and full of art Sighs are the natural language of the heart.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; For now hath time made me his numbering clock: My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart, Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans Show minutes, times, and hours.

How does he love me? With adoration, with fertile tears, With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.

Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love; we cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report...

My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore,––in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story. And that would woo her.

If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.

To live through the days sometimes you moan like deer. Sometimes you sigh. The world says stop that. Another sigh. Another stop that. Moaning elicits laughter, sighing upsets. Perhaps each sigh is drawn into existence to pull in, pull under, who knows; truth be told, you could no more control those sighs than that which brings the sighs about.

Moaning elicits laughter, sighing upsets. Perhaps each sigh is drawn into existence to pull in, pull under, who knows; truth be told, you could no more control those sighs than that which brings the sighs about.

The head's ache evaporates into a state of numbness, a cave of sighs. Over the years you lose the melodrama of seeing yourself as a patient. The sighing ceases; the headaches remain. You hold your head in your hands. You sit still.

I grab a chair. "I don't mean to pry," I say, "but we're in a hospital. You sure you're fine?" She sighs heavily. "No getting anything past you, huh?" "I also often notice when water is wet. I have a keen detective's mind like that.

Shakespeare's metaphors are the paragon of creativity. "Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs." "Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy." "There's daggers in men's smiles.

O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching Earth; Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs. She hath no questions, she hath no replies.

Said Pinocchio's lover, midst sighs, My puppet's technique takes the prize. He gives me full measure Through dishonest pleasure: I sit on his face and he lies.

How does dirt find its way into old houses like it does? Sometimes I think it's the house itself, old and disintegrating by degrees, breathing out sighs of itself, sighs longing for a little bit of notice.

But I, who am of lighter mood, Will laugh to flee away.' For who would trust the seeming sighs Of wife or paramour?