Quotes About Weeping

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

The Outing An outburst of anger near the road, a refusal to speak on the path, a silence in the pine woods, a silence across the old railroad bridge, an attempt to be friendly in the water, a refusal to end the argument on the flat stones, a cry of anger on the steep bank of dirt, a weeping among the bushes.

For to laugh is as religious as to weep; and smiles may bring us into the companionship of the Father no less than tears.

Eventually I confess to a friend some details about my weeping—its intensity, its frequency. She says (kindly) that she thinks we sometimes weep in front of a mirror not to inflame self-pity, but because we want to feel witnessed in our despair.

95. But please don't write again to tell me how you have woken up weeping. I already know how you are in love with your weeping.

92. Eventually I confess to a friend some details about my weeping—its intensity, its frequency. She says (kindly) that she thinks we sometimes weep in front of a mirror not to inflame self-pity, but because we want to feel witnessed in our despair.

Eventually I confess to a friend some details about my weeping—its intensity, its frequency. She says that she thinks we sometimes weep in front of a mirror not to inflame self-pity, but because we want to feel witnessed in our despair. (Can a reflection be a witness?)

She is someone adrift in her life, who doesn't recognise it. She is unmoored, at a loss. She is someone who weeps if she cannot find a shoe or overboils the soup or trips over a pot. Small things undo her. Nothing is certain any more.

The church is empty, but for the demented, grieving figure of SHAKESPEARE, kneeling, praying, weeping, banging his head, in his private purgatory, dimly lit by tallow candles, gazed upon by effigies of the dead and images of his Redeemer. He is wet, bedraggled, weeds and leaves in his hair.

She wept over the vanity of her desires, which had so ardently flown to the blossoming flesh that now had already withered forever.

The lonely mountains o'er, And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; From haunted spring, and dale Edged with poplar pale, The parting Genius is with sighing sent; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.

There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success.

There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize.

Silver hidden in the gold, Young man hidden in the old, Laughing lord with weeping eyes, Bring king and ring before sunrise! -Hilarion, The Great and Terrible Quest

For twelve snow-seasons, Grendel reigned over evening...Grendel, incomplete, raided relentlessly. Dude, this was what they call a blood feud, a war that tore a hole through the hearts of the Danes. Grendel was broken, and would not brook peace, desist in dealing deaths, or die himself..So it went for years... While in the dark his people shuddered, salt-scourged by weeping, by nights spent waking instead of sleeping.

Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.

Women naturally deceive, weep and spin.

He must have a truly romantic nature, for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about

And when you think about it, poets always want us to be moved by something , until in the end, you begin to suspect a poet is someone who is moved by everything , who just stands in front of the world and weeps and laughs and laughs and weeps (the mysteries, said Aristotle, are the saying of many ridiculous and many serious things).

Spring is passing by! Birds are weeping and the eyes Of fish fill with tears.

To hide her relief, Laura stepped forward and embraced her daughter. 'My poor darling. He's not worth weeping over. If he doesn't appreciate a girl like you...' But, even to her own ears, the words sounded quaint. What man ever warranted the tears shed on his behalf?

I was told, or read, that everyone visits Veciofeni's cave sooner or later. He stood in there and wept himself to death, evidently, and this manner of dying, so gently incremental, brought about the perfect preservation of his body as a consequence of his mummy-like dehydration and the saturation of his person with his own lachrymal salt.

Man is said to be a reasoning animal. I do not know why he has not been defined as an affective or feeling animal. Perhaps that which differentiates him from other animals is feeling rather than reason. More often I have seen a cat reason than laugh or weep. Perhaps it weeps or laughs inwardly — but then perhaps, also inwardly, the crab resolves equations of the second degree.

And so our reunion was like countless others: the tear of joy were mixed with tears of sorrows, the laughing merging with the weeping. For every one of us who rejoiced at finding a loved one alive, there was someone else who mourned the dead. And those who had survived often had taken the place of someone more worthy who had die.