Quotes About Crying

Crying is one of the highest devotional songs. One who knows crying, knows spiritual practice. If you can cry with a pure heart, nothing else compares to such a prayer, Crying includes all the principles of Yoga.

My nephew's always crying. I'm like, 'Dude, why are you crying? Your life is great. All you do is eat apple sauce and take dumps. That's your day.

One of the saddest days of my life was when my mother told me Superman did not exist. I was like what do you mean he's not real. And she thought I was crying because it’s like Santa Claus is not real and I was crying because there was no one coming with enough power to save us.

I could not bounce back from my divorce - emotionally - I just could not bounce back. With any bad situations I’d experienced before - a bad game or my two previous divorces - I got over them. This time I just could not get out of the hole. The anxiety attacks were frequent and extensive. I had weight loss, which I’d never had before. I couldn’t stop crying. And if I wasn’t crying, I was angry, bitter, hateful and mean-spirited. I couldn’t sleep - couldn’t concentrate. It just got crazy.

However, if you do start crying in an argument and someone asks why, you can always say, 'I'm just crying because of how wrong you are.'

I like crying. And now I not only wanna cry and show my crying to other people, I wanna just split myself down the middle and open my guts and just throw everything out!

He does cry a lot. It's nothing new, nothing special! And actually I think everyone was crying in my box, so I think he wasn't the only one. I was crying, as well. But my dad is very emotional. I have that from him. It's my dad. He has a birthday tomorrow, so I'm just glad that he has a nice present.

Before you lost your mind, how did you make a living?" "I was a hitman for the Mafia. Are you done crying yet?" "I wasn't crying! And I wish you were a hitman because, if I had money, I'd hire you right this minute to knock yourself off.

This is a beautiful time, this last age, the age of the Holy Spirit... He is crying to every soul that is walled: Open to Me, My spouse, My sister. And once inside, He is calling again: Come to Me here in this secret place. Oh, hear Him tonight crying all over the world a last desperate summons of love to a dying race.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

As I walk back to the school on my own, I realise I'm crying. So I go back to the stories I've read about the five and I try to make sense of their lives because in making sense of theirs, I may understand mine.

I'm crazy for trying, crazy for crying, and I'm crazy for loving you.

A woman I loved [Andi Parhamovich] was killed in Baghdad in January 2007 – al-Qaeda in Iraq took credit for it … The memorial service with me crying over an empty coffin.

I find I have to be the sad clown: laughing on the outside, crying on the inside.

You put on such a brave front. But I know if I took another step toward you, you'd wet your pants." "With your blood." I brandished my knife. But I couldn't keep a straight face; the boast sounded ridiculous even to my own ears. I snickered. She laughed. The release of tension made me giddy, and soon I was laughing and crying.

When I found out I was in the top 13 I was freaking out and crying it was such a joyous moment for me.

Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? Would you run, and never look back? Would you cry, if you saw me crying? And would you save my soul tonight?

I am very happy. Extremely, blissfully so. Even in my pain, I'm happy. I like crying. It makes me feel alive. Challenges, when you're in a tumultuous situation, are an opportunity to grow, an opportunity to get closer to God, an opportunity to find and kind of reform yourself, and to figure out what really matters and what your priorities are. Not that I'm welcoming tribulation, but I find that it is beneficial.

Do you know what I think about crying? I think some people have to learn to do it. But once you learn, once you know how to really cry, there's nothing quite like it. I feel sorry for those who don't know the trick. It's like whistling or singing.

She liked being reminded of butterflies. She remembered being six or seven and crying over the fates of the butterflies in her yard after learning that they lived for only a few days. Her mother had comforted her and told her not to be sad for the butterflies, that just because their lives were short didn't mean they were tragic. Watching them flying in the warm sun among the daisies in their garden, her mother had said to her, see, they have a beautiful life. Alice liked remembering that.

And I was crying for gravity. It had sent me down the stairs, and I'd thought that meant something, but maybe it was just the direction that all things tend to flow.

And then the really awful thing is that at the end of the day after crying and experiencing things, then you look at what you've written and you're like, 'Hmm, there's half a page that's good here.' Then you throw out everything else.

I'm a long way from being evicted [at the age of 14], but I'll never forget it. I'll never forget the feeling. I'll never forget my mom crying and I'll never forget the thought I had: 'Well the only thing I can do is just go build my body,' because the men who were successful that I knew of - Stallone, Arnold, Bruce Willis - they were men of action.

So we know she's safe and taken care of?" Daniel asked, and she nodded. "Good. Then why don't we do something that you want to do?" "Like what?" "I don't know. What do you like to do?" "Um...." Her stomach rumbled, since crying always made her hungry. "I like eating breakfast." "That's so weird." Daniel grinned. "Because I like making French toast." "That works out, doesn't it?

So goodbye, I'll be leaving, I see no sense in this crying and grieving. We'll both live a lot longer, if you live without me.

Still, I look down, and the grass is so green, I cannot understand how it does not wither and die with sorrow. But against the emerald carpet, the warriors make war, and it is like a dance, almost beautiful, always macabre. The noise brings me back, the fearsome noise of swords striking swords, a metallic clanging that rings in my ears, echoing and echoing the fearsome din of men screaming and crying as they meet the sharp ends of blades.

This isn't the Democratic party of our fathers and grandfathers. This is the party of Woodstock hippies. I was at Woodstock--I built the stage. And when everything fell apart, and people were fighting for peanut butter sandwiches, it was the National Guard who came in and saved the same people who were protesting them. So when Hillary Clinton a few years ago wanted to build a Woodstock memorial, I said it should be a statue of a National Guardsman feeding a crying hippie.

I could see my face, crying, in her blank eye.

Some of my favorite movies have explored the father-son dynamic, in a very loving way. It can be complicated, but at the end, it's that moment where you're crying because of that core relationship.

There's a constant chatter in our house, whether it's giggling or screaming or crying or banging. I love it. I love it. I love it. I hate it when they're gone. I hate it. Maybe it's nice to be in a hotel room for a day - 'Oh, nice, I can finally read a paper.' But then, by the next day, I miss that cacophony, all that life.

It Was Once Suggested to Me that, as an Antidote to Crying, I Put My Head in a Paper Bag.

Down in the city are the nice houses and the so-so houses and the lovers making out in dark yards and the babies crying for their moms, and I wonder if, other than Jesus, has this ever happened before. Maybe it happens all the time. Maybe there's angry dead all over, hiding in rooms, covered with blankets, bossing around their scared, embarrassed relatives. Because how would we know?

I had the hardest time not crying, the entire time that I was filming.

Crying is not an option.

She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness.

The crying sounded even louder out of doors. It was as if all the pain in the world had found a voice. Yet had I known such pain was in the next room, and had it been dumb, I believe—I have thought since—I could have stood it well enough. It is when suffering finds a voice and sets our nerves quivering that this pity comes troubling us. But in spite of the brilliant sunlight and the green fans of the trees waving in the soothing sea-breeze, the world was a confusion, blurred with drifting black and red phantasms, until I was out of earshot of the house in the stone wall.

I mostly want to remind her of the recipes of healing, and give her my own made-on-the spot remedy for the easing of her pain. I tell her, “Get a pen. Stop crying so you can write this down and start working on it tonight.” My remedy is long. But the last item on the list says: “When you wake up and find yourself living someplace where there is nobody you love and trust, no community, it is time to leave town – to pack up and go (you can even go tonight). And where you need to go is any place where there are arms that can hold you, that will not let you go.

So I asked him to play "Trav'lin' All Alone." That came closer than anything to the way I felt. And some part of it must have come across. The whole joint quieted down. If someone had dropped a pin, it would have sounded like a bomb. When I finished, everybody in the joint was crying in their beer, and I picked thirty-eight bucks up off the floor. . . . When I showed Mom the money for the rent and told her I had a regular job singing for eighteen dollars a week, she could hardly believe it.

Sorry-in-the-Vale, Sorriest River, Crying Pools," said Jared. "Is the quarry called Really Depressed Quarry?

I didn’t realize I was crying until it was time to say the blinding words. ‘I do,’ I managed to choke out in a nearly unintelligible whisper... When it was his turn to speak, the words rang clear and victorious. ‘I do,’ he vowed.

Well, you won't unless you come to lunch with me," Cal said. "I'm holding it for ransom. There's a gun to its heel right now." "I have lunch at my desk," Min began, and thought,Oh, for crying out loud, could I beany more pathetic ? "Emilio is experimenting with a lunch menu. He needs you. I need you.

The boarded-up homes, the decaying storefronts, the aging church rolls, kids from unknown families who swaggered down the streets - loud congregations of teenage boys, teenage girls feeding potato chips to crying toddlers, the discarded wrappers tumbling down the block - all of it whispered painful truths.

Once off the bush The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not. -Blackberry picking

Never regret trusting someone. It proves you have a heart. But if he turns out to be a lying worm ... I'm not going to waste my time crying. Because I am way too fabulous for that.

If there is ever a time crying out for courageous leadership, its now.

A strong woman is a woman at work, cleaning out the cesspool of the ages, and while she shovels, she talks about how she doesn't mind crying, it opens the ducts of the eyes, and throwing up develops the stomach muscles, and she goes on shoveling with tears in her nose.

Miles exhaled carefully, faint with rage and reminded grief. He does not know, he told himself. He cannot know... "Ivan, one of these days somebody is going to pull out a weapon and plug you, and you're going to die in bewilderment, crying, "What did I say? What did I say?" "What did I say?" asked Ivan indignantly.

Holiday's eyes pooled with tears. And that pretty much made it a cry fest. Even Della joined in the tear party. Right then, Burnett walked in the office. His gaze went from one female to the other. Kylie could almost hear him groaning inwardly. "I...I'll be...right out there." Obviously even a hard-bodied vampire trained by the FRU wasn't capable of dealing with four crying women.