Quotes About Crying

Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.

Through my grandmother's stories always life moved, moved heroically toward an end. Nobody ever cried in my grandmother's stories. They worked, or schemed, or fought. But no crying. When my grandmother died, I didn't cry, either. Something about my grandmother's stories (without her ever having said so) taught me the uselessness of crying about anything."

You had every right to be. He raised his eyes to look at her and she was suddenly and strangely reminded of being four years old at the beach, crying when the wind came up and blew away the castle she had made. Her mother had told her she could make another one if she liked, but it hadn't stopped her crying because what she had thought was permanent was not permanent after all, but only made out of sand that vanished at the touch of wind and water.

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!

When you were born you were crying and everyone else was smiling. Live your life so at the end, your're the one who is smiling and everyone else is crying.

When you're at a funeral and you're crying, you're crying for yourself

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.

Some of us are born with a weakness for music. As a baby, music would stop whatever thought I was having. If I was worried, it would stop me worrying; if I was crying, it would stop me crying. Music was a healing thing for me.

Well, Ma, see... there's this girl." Silence. He checked to make sure the call hadn't been dropped. "You still there, Ma?" A sniffle. "You can't be crying already," he said. "I haven't told you anything about her yet." "It doesn't matter, Nick," his mother said through her tears. "Those are the three words I've been waiting thirty-four years to hear.

My mother went to demonstrations. I remember her going to a big demonstration for Earl Brower and she came home crying and said the Communists were very mean and booed their people. I remember feeling sad at her feeling sad.

I was on some TV shows with Lady Gaga the other week, and you could see the difference in reaction between her fans and my fans outside. She comes out, and she looks like a star, and the reaction is just tears, crying, people going, 'Oh my God, Oh my God.' My fans are like: 'Alright, Ed.'

Pain is subtle. He has cold grey fingers. His voice is horse from crying & screaming... When people try to avoid him, he follows them silently & turns upas the bartender, or the bus driver... Pain has an elaborate filing system for keeping track of everyone... Pain respects people who are willing to take risks. If you... face him directly, he will give you a special ointment so your wounds don't fester.

Be content with no degree of sanctification. Be always crying out, "Lord, let me know more of myself and of thee."

In TV, kid roles are like this: You're either in a couple minutes of an episode playing somebody's kid, or you get in these procedurals where you're crying or you're playing a witness or you're playing a crazy person. Every once in a while you get a big guest star role, but there's a formula to those TV shows.

Those neon light nights, couldn't stay out of fights, keeps a-haunting me in memories. There is one in every crowd, for crying out loud, why was is always turning out to be me?

To be much for God, we must be much with God. Jesus, that lone figure in the wilderness, knew strong crying, along with tears. Can one be moved with compassion and not know tears? Jeremiah was a sobbing saint. Jesus wept! So did Paul. So did John. Though there are some tearful intercessors behind the scenes, I grant you that to our modern Christianity, praying is foreign.

I am not a big crier. But I'd say it was after the Mendes fight. It was not because of the fight as such. It was everything leading up to it. It had been such a tough time. When I did my knee, I had some very dark times. Life is all about ups and downs and I'd say there had been a lot of downs, but I got through it, I won and after the fight, I was standing in the shower and I was crying, just letting it all go.

Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.

Take the blinders from your vision take the padding from your ears and confess you've heard me crying and admit you've seen my tears.

I haven't a clue about the biology or the psychology involved when a person dissolves into tears, but it is quite fascinating to note what turns them on. There are wives who can cascade over a late husband or a burned dinner, and equally pour tears of joy over a new bonnet or a renovated bathroom.... A while ago I took a ship back from Europe. Amid the tumbling confetti ... I found myself misty-eyed watching a young lady waving a tearful farewell to her boyfriend on the dock. I couldn't figure out if I was crying at her plight, or in delight that he wasn't coming along with us.

No more crying. It's all wetness and no comfort at all.

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.

Democrats can't survive in any kind of adversity. Look at how they're crying and whining like a bunch of stuck pigs over the mean Russians.

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.

We must laugh at man to avoid crying for him.

I will tell you something that you don't want to hear: Autumn is ugly! Look at the dying leaves! There is no beauty in dying! Death is always ugly! The beauty of autumn is just an illusion, my friend! Wake up and see the real truth! See the crying leaves!

It's only happened to me once [crying in the end of the film] - the end of Forrest Gump. I think it's sad because the moral of the film is that you can have no brain whatsoever and still make it in this world. That made me terribly depressed.

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.

I'll be your crying shoulder, I'll be love's suicide, I'll be better when I'm older, I'll be the greatest fan of your life.

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.

To the sea, to the sea! The white gulls are crying, The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying. West, west away, the round sun is falling, Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling, The voices of my people that have gone before me? I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me; For our days are ending and our years failing. I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing. Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling, Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling, In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people forever!

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.

Jeronimo, my grandfather, swine-herder and story-teller, feeling death about to arrive and take him, went and said goodbye to the trees in the yard, one by one, embracing them and crying because he knew he wouldn't see them again. To truly appreciate life we must remember that nothing lasts for ever and take nothing we enjoy for granted. In so doing we stay grateful and happy for all our good fortune.

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.

There's so many things going on in the world, Babies dying. Mothers crying. How much oil is one human life worth. And what ever happened to peace on earth.

Listen to life, and you will hear the voice of life crying, Be!.

If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies." While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, Crying to the moo-oo-oon, "If only, If only.

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.

It is the haunted premises of longing that the true love song inhabits. It is a howl in the void, for love and for comfort and it lives on the lips of the child crying for his mother. It is the song of the lover in need of her loved one, the raving of the lunatic supplicant petitioning his God...The love song is the sound of our endeavors to become God-like, to rise up and above the earthbound and the mediocre.

Ne reprenez, dame, si j'ai aime , Si j'ai senti mille torches ardentes, Mille travaux, mille douleurs mordantes, Si, en pleurant, j'ai mon temps consume . Do not blame me, madam, if I loved, If I felt one thousand burning torches, One thousand labours, or one thousand scathing pains, If, in crying, I spent all my time.

Perhaps I am just a coward who loves to laugh at life better than I do cry with it. But when I do get to crying, boy, I can roll a mean tear.

I love crying at romantic movies like 'The Notebook.' I'm always bawling.

Keep on shining, keep on smiling, don't lose faith, and don't lose heart. When you're crying, just keep trying to remind yourself, you're a shining star, yes you are.

I had no cares. I was one of those kids: ‘If you laugh at me, laugh at me.’ I don’t have that censor, which is important in this business because you’re constantly told: ‘Gosh, you didn’t look very good. You don’t look pretty in that scene, or you didn’t do that right, or you’d look so much better if your hair looked lighter.’ You really have to have tough skin or you’d end up like a heaping, crying mess all the time.

I got a chance to get an actual label. I performed this slow song, this ballad I have. I just remember going to the first woman I saw in the room and just getting on my knees holding her hand just singing. And I was like, you know what, I got to just sell it. I remember that day they were like, yo we want to sign you. [After] I went into the bathroom, I started crying, [and] I called my mom. I was like momma – I did it.

I really loved working on comedy. Most of my roles have been very dramatic and involved lots of emotional work and crying on cue. I do really enjoy those roles because you really feel accomplished at the end of the day but they are very emotionally draining! Working on a comedy show is just fun and at the end everyone is laughing! But I am open to all roles and genres just being on a set and being a part of the magic is what I love most!

So we down-to-earth, gutsy, tough, realistic, and practical types have just been squandering billions of dollars and unimaginable amounts of energy, nerve-work, and materials in whizzing off to the moon to discover, as astronomers knew before, that it was just a dreary slag heap. This is the true, original and scientifically etymological meaning of being lunatics. Crying for the moon.

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.