Quotes About Crying

But there's no joy at all, people say "Oh well he's drunk and happy let him sleep it off"--The poor drunkard is *crying*--He's crying for his mother and father and great brother and great friend, he's crying for help. (p.111)

Only those who still have hope can benefit from tears. When they finish, they feel better. But to those without hope, whose anguish is basic and permanent, no good comes from crying. Nothing changes for them. They usually know this, but still can’t help crying.

When you think of blues, all you think about is crying guitar like B.B. King's guitar. You think about someone crying that their woman's gone. And how bad life is and all that. Why can't it be something happy with the blues? Why can't it have a hip-hop beat to which you can do the dances of today?

Of course, I have the emotional ups and downs of pregnancy, like crying jags for no reason and then the next day I can't even remember what I was crying about!

Real crying usually lasts two minutes or less, but may continue for five. After that point, the child is merely complaining... I would require him to stop the protest crying, usually by offering him a little more of whatever caused the original tears.

Laugh. Laugh as much as you can. Laugh until you cry. Cry until you laugh. Keep doing it even if people are passing you on the street saying, "I can't tell if that person is laughing or crying, but either way they seem crazy, let's walk faster." Emote. It's okay. It shows you are thinking and feeling.

Many people are born crying, live complaining, and die disappointed; they chew the bitter pill which they would not even know to be bitter if they had the sense to swallow it whole in a cup of patience and water.

For the rest of my life I'll be thinking about that hamburger. I'll be sitting there at the counter, holding it in my hands with tears streaming down my cheeks. The waitress will be looking away because she doesn't like to see kids crying when they are eating hamburgers.

It was only when the salt water of my tears ran into my cuts and made them sting that I discovered I was crying.

Once when we were fifteen, River (Phoenix) and I went out for this fancy dinner in Manhattan and I ordered soft-shell crabs. He left the restaurant and walked around on Park Avenue, crying. I went out and said, "I love you so much. Why?" He had such a pain that I was eating an animal, that he hadn't impressed on me what was right. I loved him for that. For his dramatic desire that we share every belief, that I be with him all the way

It's easier to keep your stuff then it is to expose it, because some people don't get it. At the cross, at the feet of Jesus, there were some people who said, "Good! I'm glad that you're dead." Then there were some that were crying and saying, "Why are you doing this to this innocent man?" It is not easy to do.

To look at her, you might not guess that inside she is laughing and crying, at her own stupidities and luckiness, and at the strange enigmatic ways of the world which she will spend lifetime trying to learn and understand.

So it ends as I guessed it would,' his thoughts said, even as it fluttered away; and it laughed a little within him ere it fled, almost gay it seemed to be casting off all doubt and care and fear. And even as it winged away into forgetfulness it heard voices, and they seemed to be crying in some forgotten world far above: 'The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!' For one moment more Pippin's thought hovered. "Bilbo! But no! That came in his tale, long long ago. This is my tale, and it ended now. Good-bye!' And his thought fled far away and his eyes saw no more.

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

How long have you been sitting in the darkness? You forget. You know you're getting hard to be with and you're crying every time you turn around. Oh my crazy baby, try to hold on tight. Oh my crazy baby, don't put out the light. And your hands are shaking something awful as your worries crawl around inside your clothes.

We all start out with the same alphabet. We are all unique. Talent is not the most important thing --- discipline and dedication are. Craft can be learned but desire and longing are innate. Despite the demands of school and just being young, try to write SOMETHING every day --- a description, a captured emotion, a simile, a metaphor. Read, for crying out loud! A writer must read the way a ball player must go to the ballfield every day to practice. Everything is possible in this world of ours--- and so's publication.

I go the gym and I try to run on the treadmill and I listen to music but it doesn't motivate me enough. So I'm going to get a recording of a pack of wolves gaining on me. People would be like, 'Why is that guy crying on that treadmill over there?' 'I don't know, but he's been yelling, 'help' for like 20 minutes. He's getting a good workout.

As you stopped to say hello, oh, you wished me well, you couldn't tell that I'd been crying over you.

I was annoyed and I was crying [her honest reaction to losing a tennis match at the US Open]

Economic justice is not just something blacks are crying out for; whites are desperate for it, too. But in the public imagination, the face of poverty is black. In all actuality, the face of poverty is white.

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

It's a horrible economy but I'm trying to do my part. I just bought a new shower curtain it has all the presidents on it. Do you know how hard it is to masturbate with all the presidents staring at you? And when the water hits them it looks like they're crying.

Take off your bedroom slippers, put on your marching shoes. Shake it off. Stop complaining, stop grumbling, stop crying. We are going to press on. We’ve got work to do.

And where the words of women are crying to be heard, we must each of us recognize our responsibility to seek those words out, to read them and share them and examine them in their pertinence to our lives.

The women I know who have gone through breast cancer still laugh a lot. They're not crying all day.

I hope that people of all faiths will start looking for our too-invisible children who are crying out for help.

I love romantic comedies. I love romantic movies. I'm kind of a sucker for them, and, sort of end up crying at the end of them all, like a child.

I hope I'll keep people up at night, unable to stop turning pages. That's my goal: exhausted, emotionally drained readers who can't stop crying.

He was crying in there, making woman gestures.

Don't come crying to me if your homes are attacked. You will reap what you sow.

I can't lie, I did a lot of really, really stupid things, and it was because it was my way of crying for help.

I could not cry for my own brother; he would not want me to. But I found myself crying for this hated stranger and the endless slaughter that I had almost contributed to." (page 8)

I hate Bollywood. The movies are all garbage, just terrible. It's my opinion; obviously, there are billions who like and love them. I don't like all the singing, dancing and all the dramatic crying. I have never seen a Bollywood film in my life.

somehow we have overlooked the fact this treasured called the heart can also be broken, has been broken, and now lies in pieces down under the surface. When it comes to habits we cannot quit or patterns we cannot stop, anger that flies out of nowhere, fears we cannot overcome, or weaknesses we hate to admit--much of what troubles us comes out of the broken places in our hearts crying out for relief. Jesus speaks as if we are all brokenhearted. We would do well to trust His perspective on this.

Here it comes," she said with an expression of pure bliss. "Drug rush ... any moment now ... the surge of warmth ... bye-bye, Mr. Pain..." "Vee-" "Knock, knock." "This is really important-" "Knock, knock." "It's about Elliot-" "Knock, knoooock," she said in a singsong voice. I sighed. "Who's there?" "Boo." "Boo who?" "Boo-hoo, somebody's crying, and it's not me!" She broke into hysterical laughter.

It's like, "Women can't handle things because they're always sad. That's estrogen." Men brag about testosterone, which makes them completely out of control too. On the other end of things, it's like, "Oh it was just testosterone. He got in a bar fight." Why is that better than crying at work?

I love New York. I first came here with my Mom when I was in 9th grade. I took the subway for the first time and the doors closed between me and my Mom, and I was so scared. I could see her through the window and I didn't know what to do. I got off at the next stop and she caught up to me, but I couldn't stop crying.

For a moment he felt a wild hope: perhaps this really was a nightmare. Perhaps he would awake in his own bed, bathed in sweat, shaking, maybe even crying . . . but alive. Safe. Then he pushed the thought away. Its charm was deadly, its comfort fatal.

The body is a house of many windows: there we all sit, showing ourselves and crying on the passers-by to come and love us.

Now I see that all relationships are virtual, even those that take place in person. Whether we use our bodies or a keyboard, it all comes down to two minds crying out from their solitude.

Why are you crying?" shivered the otter. "Because I am cold!" shouted the gnome. "Then why are you shouting?" chattered the otter. "Because," yelled the gnome, "when I shout it gets part of the cold from the inside out.

I got out on the street and started crying the kind of hysterical tears made justifiable only by turning off one’s cell phone, putting it to the ear, and pretending to be told of a death in the family.

Sex is like crying, it does look pretty if you really do it

Crying is part of the adventure.

Even the wisest of mankind cannot live by reason alone; pure arrogant reason, denying the claims of prejudice (which commonly are also the claims of conscience), leads to a wasteland of withered hopes and crying loneliness, empty of God and man: the wilderness in which Satan tempted Christ was not more dreadful than the arid expanse of intellectual vanity deprived of tradition and intuition, where modern man is tempted by his own pride.

I'm alone. And I'm crying. And no one is coming to the crib. And the nightlight has burned out. And I'm mad. I'm so mad. Left frontal lobe. I...I...I don't feel so good. Left occipital lobe. I... don't remember where...Left parietal lobe. I...I...I can't remember my name,but...but...Right temporal...but I'm still here. Right frontal. I'm still here... Right occipital.I'm still...Right parietal. I'm...Cerebellum. I'm...Thalamus. I...Hypothalamus. I...Hippocampus...Medulla.

Being a writer means crying over the sad parts, even though you already know it’s going to be okay.

Laughing and crying are really similar - what happens to your body. It's a very similar process in your diaphragm. Like a musician, you have to do your scales once in a while and warm up your voice.