Quotes About Cry

I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls; And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

I love to cry. It's such a great release. If I'm just tired - jetlagged, I didn't get any sleep, I want to cry. I think it's important to cry.

I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time.

If you want to cry, then cry. Decide by yourself whether you are important or not. Even if other people value you, nobody can do anything for you. Ultimately, it’s your problem so if you live without regrets, then over time I think that your problems would disappear.

This is how it works You're young until you're not You love until you don't You try until you can't You laugh until you cry You cry until you laugh And everyone must breathe Until their dying breath No, this is how it works You peer inside yourself You take the things you like And try to love the things you took And then you take that love you made And stick it into some Someone else's heart Pumping someone else's blood And walking arm in arm You hope it don't get harmed But even if it does You'll just do it all again

I wanted my book to make people cry, but I feel like I'm the only person who my book is going to make cry, if they show me the sales numbers.

I'm an emotional guy, I cry at movies, man, so beating GSP and winning the world title... yeah, I'll probably cry in the Octagon.

She used to cry roughly three times a year. Now she seemed to cry three times before breakfast. Could that be considered progress?

I've got God's shoulder to cry on. And I cry a lot. I do a lot of crying in this job. I'll bet I've shed more tears than you can count, as president.

Cry as much as you want to, but just make sure when you're finished, you never cry for the same reason again.

In times of grief and sorrow I will hold you and rock you, and take your grief and make it my own. When you cry, I cry, and when you hurt, I hurt. And together we will try to hold back the floods to tears and despair and make it through the potholed street of life.

I may cry ruining my make up, Wash away all things you've taken.. I don't care if I don't look pretty, Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking.

The thing about kids is that they express emotion. They don't hold back. If they want to cry, they cry, and if they are in a good mood, they're in a good mood.

I'm a Western-cultured man who subscribes to the ancient saw that men do not cry, I don't cry either. I'll go to a movie, for example, and not infrequently something triggers the urge to weep, but I don't allow myself.

He smiles sadly. "Now I know my destiny." "What is it?" "This." He draws me in to him in a kiss. His lips are warm. He pulls me tighter in his embrace. The roots sigh and release their hold on my waist and the wound in my side is healed. "Kartik," I cry, kissing his cheeks. "It's let me go." "That's good," he says. He makes a small cry. His back arches, and every muscle in his body tightens.

When I was younger, I thought I had to shut myself off, work really hard to cry. I learned after a while that that's just not... You know, often in life, you cry when you're caught off-guard. That's where I need to be when I'm acting, too.

I cry all the time. Music makes me cry.

Mine would be Your Song, which is just one of his ones that I... I was actually glad the whole song wasn't played in this film and it's just a few bars of it because it makes me cry. You know, there are some songs that just make the hairs on the back of your neck just stand up? That's one of those for me - I put it on if I want a good cry.

She should want to see me. If I had said how I feel about her, she would miss me even more. All this time, I've been breaking her heart by keeping her wait, yet I can't still appear before her eyes. I never want to see her cry anymore. Even if it means I no longer exist in her heart. How immature of me, right? -Kudou Shinichi

Such sorrow— The cry of true compassion Sinks into my hard ego.

I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on top of the beer can

What women would do if they could not cry, nobody knows. What poor, defenceless creatures they would be!

I am just a simple guy and I like when people enjoy themselves. I always say: you can laugh, you can cry, you can express yourself but please don't hurt each other. I really don't know, to be honest with you. I'm very impressed with everything that has happened.

The personality of the artist, at first a cry or a cadence or a mood and then a fluid, and lambent narrative, finally refines itself out of existence, impersonalises itself, so to speak. The aesthetic image in the dramatic form is life purified in and reprojected from the human imagination. The mystery of aesthetic like that of material creation is accomplished. The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.

Life ... is never the way one imagines it. It surprises you, it amazes you, and it makes you laugh or cry when you don't expect it.

Don't cry." "How can I not?" I asked him. "You just said you loved me." "Well, why else did you think all of this was happening?" He set the book aside to wrap his arms around me. "The Furies wouldn't be trying to kill you if I didn't love you." "I didn't know," I said. Tears were trickling down my cheeks, but I did nothing to try to stop them. His shirt was absorving most of them. "You never said anything about it. Every time I saw you, you just acted so... wild." "How was I supposed to act?" he asked. "You kept doing things like throwing tea in my face.

Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest; Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Go by, go by.

For years after Lydgate remembered the impression produced in him by this involuntary appeal-this cry from soul to soul, without other consciousness than their moving with kindred natures in the same embroiled medium, the same troublous fitfully-illuminated life.

this is one of my absolute favourite quotes its from the evernight series (stargazer) charity to Balthazar You remind me of too much. you remind me of what it felt like to be alive, to think of sunlight as something you could enjoy instead of something you could bare, to breath and have it change you, refresh you, awaken you, instead of just churning on and on some old useless habit that taunts you with what you use to be, to sigh and feel relief, to cry and let your sadness pass, instead of having it all bottled up inside of you forever and ever until you don't know who you are any more.

My mother would cry about my blindness and the hopelessness of my ever seeing, but I told her I wasn't sad. I believed God had something for me to do.

...her cry is a hook and it catches me in the throat.

DEMON MATH What is JUST in a world you've ripped in two as if there could be a half for me a half for you what is FAIR when there is nothing left to share what is YOURS when your pain is mine to bear this sad math is mine this mad path is mine subtract they say don't cry back to the desk try forget addition multiply and i reply this is why remainders hate division.

since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry --the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter which says we are for eachother: then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis

In spite of this trial, which takes all enjoyment from me, I can never the less, cry out, 'Lord, you fill me with joy in all that you do. For is there a joy greater than to suffer for love?'

I love getting fan mail. Often, as a writer, you never know what your readers think of a book... you get critical reviews and sales figures, but none of that is the same as knowing you've made a person stay up all night reading, or helped them have a good cry, or really touched their life.

Ah! Up then from the ground sprang I And hailed the earth with such a cry As is not heard save from a man Who has been dead, and lives again. About the trees my arms I wound; Like one gone mad I hugged the ground; I raised my quivering arms on high; I laughed and laughed into the sky.

Never lose hope. Stay close to Allah and when you mess up, go back to Him. Never, ever stop going back to Him. Repent often. Cry to Allah. And hold on tight-with your life-to His remembrance and to prayer. If you do this, you may get wet, but insha Allah never drown in this ocean of dunya.

I need a little language such as lovers use, words of one syllable such as children speak when they come into the room and find their mother sewing and pick up some scrap of bright wool, a feather, or a shred of chintz. I need a howl; a cry. When the storm crosses the marsh and sweeps over me where I lie in the ditch unregarded I need no words. Nothing neat. Nothing that comes down with all its feet on the floor. None of those resonances and lovely echoes that break and chime from nerve to nerve in our breasts making wild music, false phrases. I have done with phrases.

...No one died from infection under Keen. ...He (Keen) began to chronicle the results in statistical articles. He was threatened with expulsion from the Pennsylvania Medical Association.....This was in the 1890's....Finally was accepted as the greatest surgeon in the US. The old man told me - and he started to cry...'I nearly went under. I was nearly shut off.

Too many escape into complexity these days. For it is an escape for persons to cry, when this question of the equality of peoples is raised in India or in our own South, 'Ah, but the situation is not so simple.' ... no great stride forward is ever made for the individual or for the human race unless the complex situation is reduced to one simple question and its simple answer.

A great painting or symphony or play, doesn't diminish us, but enlarges us, and we, too, want to make our own cry of affirmation to the power of Creation behind the Universe.

Foreign news is considered an expletive. Thoughtfully written analysis is out, 'live pops' are in. 'Action Jackson' is the cry. Hire lookers, not writers. Do powder puff, not probing interviews. Stay away from controversial subjects. Kiss ass, move with the mass, and for heaven and rating's sake, don't make anybody mad- - certainly not anybody you're covering, and especially not the mayor, the governor, the senator, the president or the vice-president or anybody in a position of power. Make nice, not news.

You should have taken me with you," I whisper to him. Then I lean my head against his and begin to cry. In my mind, I make a silent promise to my brother's killer. I will hunt you down. I will scour the streets of Los Angeles for you. Search every street in the Republic if I have to. I will trick you and deceive you, lie, cheat and steal to find you, tempt you out of your hiding place, and chase you until you have nowhere else to run. I make you this promise: your life is mine.

The dreadful thing about getting older is you cry at the drop of a hat.

Personally, when I'm picking friends, I like the ones who don't make me cry myself to sleep.

The animate and inanimate creation all contribute to the true worship of God. All of creation must worship at whatever level of sentience they possess. Jesus said if men held back their praise, even the stones might "cry out" in worship.

I just find it interesting that kids apparently used to cry when Bambi's mother died. George and I both held our breaths, and then cheered when she didn't reanimate and try to eat her son.