Quotes about tears

Crying is like a thundershower for the soul. The air feels so wonderful after the rain. Don’t think too much. Breathe. Don’t be harsh or demanding on yourself. Just experience your feelings and know that your tears are announcing change in your life. Change is coming like a summer rain — to wash away your pain. Have faith that things are getting better.

Every therapeutic cure, and still more, any awkward attempt to show the patient the truth, tears him from the cradle of his freedom from responsibility and must therefore reckon with the most vehement resistance.

I saw a cardinal when I was in Brooklyn, and I was almost moved to tears. I was, like, 'I can't believe this thing is legal. I can't believe this thing is in the wild. How did this happen? How has someone not killed them all? They're so conspicuous. They're gorgeous. How can they still be alive?'

Anger tears me up inside... My own... or anyone else's.

And the smile that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through tears.

Joy's smile is much closer to tears than laughter.

If the world's a veil of tears, Smile till rainbows span it.

Weep hard as much as you need but do not let your tears pursue the sorrow for the rest of your life.

Tears are infinitely more precious than blood. Blood spurts from the body tears stream from the soul.

Tears are only for those who care to see you sad a badly broken heart never cries.

Clean your tears and stop crying you are not the only one with a broken heart.

Don’t let your tears be seen it may hurt someone else’s happiness.

Our Lord shouts and screamshis tears fall from heaven and spring the streams

I lived my grief I slept mourning and ate sorrow and drank tears. I ignored all else.

Tears are my joy to hide my painlike thunder hides the sound of rain.

Her marble tears run down her marble face.A stranger is someone who has no handkerchief.Who has no words to say.Whose shadow mind is burningas he sits watching her handsand thinks how rare!to see a Romantalkwith no gestures at all.

Then you go ahead and cry," Will said. That ended my weeping. Had he asked me not to cry, I would have not been able to stop, but his permission somehow quite my tears.

At night, with only the bedside lamp on, I would pretend to sleep and listened to Dad’s muffled crying in the semi-darkness, wishing that I could cry like him, that I could bring Stevan back from the dead by the strength of my tears. But they were regular tears carving the same slicing-hot trails down my cheeks, and in the end, I could not summon a distinct kind of grief for Stevan. Just the same grief that has gripped mankind for centuries, which time would inevitably ebb into a notch in one’s

The old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that I Should weep?

Besides a burial service is rather lovely. Makes you feel uplifted, the grief is real. It makes you feel awful but it does something to you. I mean, it works it out like perspiration.

Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grief In such soft sigh As hath the wind in gardens where Pale roses die.

He sank to his knees, absolutely full of despair and sadness. For a long time, droplets of blood continued to fall into his lap.

He felt something trickle down his face and he wiped it away irritably. When he looked at the back of his hand, he found trails of red. He had never cried in his life; in fact, he could not cry with no tear ducts. But now, at last, he was. He was crying tears of blood. For her.

...and when I lift my head to scream out my fury, a million stars turn black and die. No one can see them, but they are my tears.

I still want to feel you against me.” Her gaze dropped to his hands. “I want you to stay with me. Hold me. Just tonight. If I lose you again tomorrow then it will still be worth it. I will lose you a hundred times, if you would but hold me in your arms each time before my loss.” She saw his eyes water, but no tears emerged...

Her only weapons were her tears.

I have cried over myself a hundred times this summer, she thought, I have wept over my big feet and my skinny legs and my nose, I have even cried over my stupid shoes, and now when I have true sadness there are no tears left.

Tears are the silent language of grief.

Reshuffllng of thoughts - facilitates a refreshed perspective to a mental deadlock!

Tears have always been easier to shed than explain.

Unless death is made a lesson for the living, the life lived is wasted.Why should life come into existence only to be destroyed? One dies and another is born—for what? A few miserable hours of life—then oblivion!With this recognition of the finality of death, no one should willingly withhold acts that would bring benefits, joy or happiness to others. In death, the hesitant act can no longer be performed—the word of praise is as impossible as yesterday's return.What perversity justified inflictin

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough. If we always had smiled on the one who is gone, there would be no despair in our grief; and some sweetness would cling to our tears, reminiscent of virtues and happiness. For our recollections of veritable love—which indeed is the act of virtue containing all others—call from our eyes the same sweet, tender tears as those most beautiful hours wherein memory was born.

Tears don't bring people back." Pain stabs from my chest to my fingertips."Tears aren't for the people we've lost. They are for us. So that we can remember and celebrate and miss them and feel human.

I figured we really shouldn’t grieve for those who leave us for God. They’ve arrived at their destinations with lucky souls no longer burdened by our piddling human considerations. It may seem cruel when they die so young or so beautiful or so loved. Cry not for them, for the life not lived. Cry only for your own hurt in missing them. That’s the only true loss. And in those sad moments when you remember a touch, or catch them watching from the corner of your eye, understand they left you with a

You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated. The only thing I can feel is the blood rushing through my veins and the strings that hold my fragile heart together.

She had a dream, quite singular, dearest to her heart.She had a dream, quite eccentric, treasured in her soul.She nurtured it, she cuddled it and kept it covered in the twinkle of her eye and waited patiently with a fond expectation.Yet in that sky wrapped in the radiance of a rainbow , all but that dream came alive.She often smiled at that solitary dream with numb tears of pallid fulfilment.

There is a point when the anguished soul finally despairs. A moment in life when the heart, the will, even the spirit crumbles. Some say that after much grief and drowning in tears, it is possible to pick up the pieces and carefully repair what was shatt

...beneath torrents of spring rain, buds come to life - and we do too, beneath torments of tears...

I don’t cry for humans. I cry for things that are so beautiful I just can’t stand it, like Bonnie in front of me, all crusty from rolling in the sand, with a mouthful of half-chewed hay and eyes that knew everything I’d ever thought or felt or been.

All the tears in the world can't bring back the dead or wash away your fears and grief. I want you to put up your chin and tell yourself you are strong. And if you begin to weaken, hold on to me. That's what I am here for.

He took the box but did not avail himself of a tissue. She understood. Sometimes it was comforting to feel the wetness of grief's tears on your face.

Tears are part of the leeway of the common areas of a hospital, since so many have to do their crying away from the patient's bed. You don't care who sees you cry in the lobby: it was port of entry for all the sorrows, and one gave up all one's previous citizenship at the border.

The voice of grief is rather convincing, isn’t it? It tells you you’re “too old,” “not good enough,” or “not worthy enough” for another chance at life, that starting over is impossible. This voice in your head is the first thing you hear in the morning and the last thing you hear at night. It drives with you to work. It stays with you at lunch. Its message is so consistent that because of its repetitive power, you may be inclined to believe it. But, as persuasive as the voice of grief is, everyt

The heart aches in brokenness as daylight awakens the pain of knowing.

In the end I didn't know who I was crying for, but it was something my body wanted to do, as though trying to digest grief.

Loss taught me the value of tears. Just as the rains come down to wash away debris and dust, tears unleashed can bring relief.

She simply stared at me with such a loving expression on her face, I felt like I was her foal. Indah reached her head as far as she could around me, to press me to her. I melted. How could I live without this horse? I wrapped my arms around her neck and let my tears flow.

There should be a measure for happiness or sadness, like the width of your smile, the twinkle in your eyes, the depth of your laughter or the salt of your tears.

Happiness & Sadness are two contemporary stages in life. A wise man overcomes sadness with his wisdom, and a foolish man faces it with tears.

I would write my tears, weeping out my pain - I would empty my veins for ink.

I don't cry. Unfortunately, I seem rather short of tears, so my sorrows have to stay inside me.

The tears come to my eyes so fast, there's just no way to stop them.

She wept a river of tears holy water, sent to soften the sharp edges of sorrow a gentle hollowing out, carving new chambers in her hearta hallowed vessel for holding sacred, the tears of others...

At least the tears on my desk wipe away the dust that's covered this place

Because I want to know if I'm allowed to kiss your tears away. Because I want to be able to hold your hand. Because I like you.

Misery is a river of tears that whispers my name in a constant hiss.

I didn't know someone could cry that much, I thought the tears would run out. They don't.

My tears simply broke through the fragile wallthat had held them, and with a terrible feeling of shame, I laid my head upon the table and let them drain out of me.

You have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose then, your heart has been weeping blood?

Or is it the case that no one gets over anything? Is there really that much pain and suffering continuing right now at this minute, in millions of hearts, in bodies carrying on the burden of existence, trying to smile through tears for fleeting, passing moments here and there-when they can forget what happened to them, maybe even for whole hours at a time? Maybe that's what it is to live.

Nights without work I spent with whisky and books.

He hugged her tight, mixing their tears to be bottled and fermented, so they could be drunk on each other when this was all over.

I'd like to have a good long talk with you once you've calmed down. Please call me soon. Happy Birthday.

Then, all but instinctively, I took her in my arms. Pressed against me, her whole body trembling, she continued to cry without a sound.

Oh, dry the glistening tear that dues that marshal cheekThy loving childern here in them thy comfort seek With sympathetic care their arms around the creep, For oh they can not bear to see their father weep

The tears coursed down her cheeks- not freely, however, for when they came into contact with her heavily beaded eyelashes they assumed an inky color, and pursued the rest of their way in slow black rivulets.

We laugh, that we may not cry.

Tears flood in youyour eyes burningyour heart scars with my name scratched deepMy face is gonemy heart betrayed by your lullabiesI’m a shadow of a girl insideHands are touching younothing takes the place of youHeart wrench, weeps goodbyeLullabies, beautiful and trustingBarely breathing as they break into dustLonely corners meSweeps me off my feetShows me it was better for meFingertips holding closeyour grip not as softFollows me to an empty bedI can’t stop the weakening of my soulmy body is dyin

A thousand laughing suns are in your eyes. A thousand crying stars in mine.

Madoka: I want to erase the tears of all those who trusted in hope. I want them to be left with a smile on their faces.

I sweat in tears to get what I want.

I write to shed my tears.

She touched her fingertip to his wet face and brought away a tear. Amazed, he did the same. He tasted this river his own eyes had rained."It tastes of salt!" he exclaimed. "It tastes like the sea!""Mine too!" she laughed through her own tears, and he touched and tasted hers as well. "It's as if humans kept a sign of the mother sea in ourselves, a secret token of grief or gladness.

No tears come, only memories. Memories and regrets.

No teas come, only memories. Memories and regrets.

Her eyes are liquid and draining out of her.

When Your Smile At Someone's Misery, Its Does Not Shows Your Tolerance. Its Reveals lack of Tears For Feeling.

Tears are words the mouth can't say nor can the heart bear.

It is a grave injustice to a child or adult to insist that they stop crying. One can comfort a person who is crying which enables him to relax and makes further crying unnecessary; but to humiliate a crying child is to increase his pain, and augment his rigidity. We stop other people from crying because we cannot stand the sounds and movements of their bodies. It threatens our own rigidity. It induces similar feelings in ourselves which we dare not express and it evokes a resonance in our own bo

Soon enough the tears came but of course nobody came down to see if she was all right, it was just the slut in the kitchen who'd ruined their lives, getting drunk of neat gin and howling for her lost lunatic offer.

Silent tears are the worst. It's the sign of a broken spirit. No sound, no residual emotions... just tears. Silent, unstoppable tears.

Maybe there in a set amount of crying your body needs to deal with any trauma. There’s a certain water-level of tears you need to shed until you can find acceptance or move on or whatever. And, if you don’t cry them out, they just catch up with you.

The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.

When you feel sadness inside, wipe it away by cries and tears!

The place in her, though, where her tears should have come from, was rough and dry. No, she didn't find any tears in herself to cry for the storyteller.The storyteller didn't exist anymore.

I am so happy that I made someone cry today - don't worry I'm a writer. It's when they make me cry that it's a problem.

A tear rolled down my cheekAnd more came downUntil tears rolled down like a stream.My eyes were blind with tears for you.They washed my eyes till I could see.

Ceaseless as the interminable voices of the bell-cricket, all night till dawn my tears flow.

Tears are a form of communication - like speech - and require a listener.

17. We live on this earth till we die one dayThough we crave to live, death doth make its swayNone can stop it, thou nor I from its wayNor tears of kith and kin keeps it away

Sometimes we have to soak ourselves in the tears and fears of the past to water our future gardens. Wisdom grows not by sitting in peace and solitude in meditation, but by confronting the storms of the past, and studying what triggered them so that we can prevent them from happening again.

Learning to be a Life- Giving Mom without regrets requires embracing the season you are in. You have to let go of the past and live in the present as you lay hold of the future. At each transition you will likely shed some tears as you realize that you can’t go back and re-live the past. You must move forward, facing the imperfections of your present, hoping for the future.

Every time you cry, your tears put out my candle.

Sam sent me to give you a message, Edilio. He said, ‘Tell Edilio I couldn’t kill the bugs.’”“The things that came out of Hunter?” Howard asked.Taylor closed her eyes. Tears squeezed out and rolled down her cheeks. “Yes. The things that came out of Hunter. Sam shot them, you know, with his light. But they’re like, reflective or whatever. Anyway, it didn’t kill them.

He gazed up at the blue sky and knew that heaven—at least in this life—was neither a time nor a placeto be grasped and made into a possession. It came in fleeting moments and then went away again toleave one nostalgic and yearning and on the verge of tears.Very much on the verge of tears.And very frightened.

I guess that’s how well you know me. You think I like hearing this news.”“I’m sorry. This is selfish. I just need to tell someone … outside my life. Get it out of myhead, to keep from going nuts, but somewhere safe.”She sees me as safe? This brings tears to my eyes.“I trust you, Clem. Are you pissed?

The only way to find peace is to face the unknown and trust that God has heard your tears.

I wanted to write you a love poemBut my heart feels out of tuneSo I coax my breath into the darkness of my rib cage And invite it to fan openMaybe I would say something like,"One day, I would like to fall in love with you,"And here I pause while the tears that have been threatening to rain down all day swell high in my chest, blurring my vision"One day, I would like to fall in love with you,"I will start writing again, & continue,"wherever you are, whoever you are, but in this moment, I will fal

Once upon a time, you were everything to me..and I was everything to you.