Cry Quotes - Page 17

• I have an extra set of eyelashes because you never know. I could cry or laugh, or it could be windy, and I'll need a standby pair.

  Niecy Nash

  Eyelashes, Laughing, Needs

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• I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry. Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.

  Ray Bradbury

  Rain, Sleep, Night

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• In a great gasp, puts her head in her hands again and cries as if her throat were a cave, as if the howling winds came from her belly, she cries like a storm that will never end.

  Marilyn French

  Hands, Wind, Storm

  Marilyn French (2013). “Her Mother's Daughter: A Novel”, p.104, Open Road Media

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• A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.

  William Shakespeare

  Pain, Adversity, Light

  William Shakespeare, William Dodd (1854). “The Beauties of Shakespeare. [By W. Dodd.]”, p.19

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• Crying was like pissing everything out on the ground.

  Stephen King

  Stephen King (2008). “'Salem's Lot”, p.223, Anchor

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• there are times when life's ends are so raveled that reason and sense cry out that we stop and gather them together again before we can proceed

  Richard Wright

  Together Again, Reason, Ends

  Richard Wright (1987). “Native son”, Harper Perennial

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• If only it were possible to love without injury – fidelity isn’t enough: I had been faithful to Anne and yet I had injured her. The hurt is in the act of possession: we are too small in mind and body to possess another person without pride or to be possessed without humiliation. In a way I was glad that my wife had struck out at me again – I had forgotten her pain for too long, and this was the only kind of recompense I could give her. Unfortunately the innocent are always involved in any conflict. Always, everywhere, there is some voice crying from a tower.

  Graham Greene

  Hurt, Pain, Philosophy

  Graham Greene (1973). “The Collected Edition: The quiet American”

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• When it comes to death, we know that laughter and tears are pretty much the same thing. And so, laughing and crying, we said good-bye to my grandmother. And when we said goodbye to one grandmother, we said good-bye to all of them. Each funeral was a funeral for all of us. We lived and died together. All of us laughed when they lowered my grandmother into the ground. And all of us laughed when they covered her with dirt. And all of us laughed as we walked and drove and rode our way back to our lonely, lonely houses.

  Sherman Alexie

  Goodbye, Lonely, Laughter

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• It was lonely on the hill, and cold. And all you could do was keep going. You could scream, cry, and stamp your feet, but apart from making you feel warmer, it wouldn’t do any good. You could say it was unfair, and that was true, but the universe didn’t care because it didn’t know what “fair” meant. That was the big problem about being a witch. It was up to you. It was always up to you.

  Terry Pratchett

  Lonely, Feet, Care

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• Give me a moment, because I like to cry for joy. It's so delicious, John dear, to cry for joy.

  Charles Dickens

  Giving, Joy, Moments

  Charles Dickens (2016). “Our Mutual Friend”, p.672, Xist Publishing

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• 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

  e. e. cummings

  Spring, Flower, Fate

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• Everything in our background has prepared us to know and resist a prison when the gates begin to close around us . . . But what if there are no cries of anguish to be heard? Who is prepared to take arms against a sea of amusements? To whom do we complain, and when, and in what tone of voice, when serious discourse dissolves into giggles? What is the antidote to a culture's being drained by laughter?

  Neil Postman

  Laughter, Sea, Voice

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• Sleep is still difficult I sleep for three or four hours a day. Usually sometime in the afternoon. I walk in the cold, keep myself numb. I cry less, and less." (James Frey, pg.88)

  James Frey

  Sleep, Three, Afternoon

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• I have an immense appetite for solitude, like an infant for sleep, and if I don't get enough for this year, I shall cry all the next.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Sleep, Years, Solitude

  Henry David Thoreau (2014). “Familiar Letters (Annotated Edition)”, p.242, Jazzybee Verlag

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• I cry. Evil dissolves, & love, like foam; that love. Prattle of children powers me home, my heart claps like the swan's under a frenzy of who love me & who shine.

  John Berryman

  Children, Home, Heart

  "The Heart Is Strange: New Selected Poems".

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• 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.

  Lisa Ann Sandell

  Beautiful, War, Men

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• This is my living faith, an active faith, a faith of verbs: to question, explore, experiment, experience, walk, run, dance, play, eat, love, learn, dare, taste, touch, smell, listen, speak, write, read, draw, provoke, emote, scream, sin, repent, cry, kneel, pray, bow, rise, stand, look, laugh, cajole, create, confront, confound, walk back, walk forward, circle, hide, and seek.

  Terry Tempest Williams

  Faith, Running, Writing

  Terry Tempest Williams (2001). “Leap”, Vintage

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• Once I spoke the language of the flowers, Once I understood each word the caterpillar said, Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings, And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed. Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets, And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow, Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . . How did it go? How did it go?

  Shel Silverstein

  Flower, Fall, Snow

  Shel Silverstein, “Forgotten Language”

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• I had seen the damp lying on the outside of my little window, as if some goblin had been crying there all night, and using the window for a pocket-handkerchief.

  Charles Dickens

  Lying, Night, Pockets

  Charles Dickens (2009). “The Complete Works of Charles Dickens: Great Expectations”, p.14, Cosimo, Inc.

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• It’s harder to talk about, but what I really, really, really want for Christmas is just this: I want to be 5 years old again for an hour. I want to laugh a lot and cry a lot. I want to be picked or rocked to sleep in someone’s arms, and carried up to be just one more time. I know what I really want for Christmas: I want my childhood back. People who think good thoughts give good gifts.

  Robert Fulghum

  Sleep, Thinking, Years

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• You know, you hear about these movements for women, and for children, and for people who are any race but white, and you think that it's about time that men got a movement. Think about it. Guys can't play the piano, or dance, or sing. We can't cry, or be too happy, or show any emotion for that matter. The only thing we have left to us is anger, and even that we have to bottle up. Boys should be able to express what they feel and not have to endure people laughing at them, forcing them to wonder if they're gay or not, just because they like to paint.

  Alex Sanchez

  Children, Gay, Men

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• As I raced out of the office, I could hear Emily rapid-fire dialing four-digit extensions and all but screaming, 'She's on her way-- tell everyone.' It took me only three seconds to wind through the hallways and pass through the fashion department, but I had already heard panicked cries of 'Emily said she's on her way in' and 'Miranda's coming!' and a particularly blood curdling cry of 'She's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

  Lauren Weisberger

  Fashion, Fire, Blood

  Lauren Weisberger (2003). “The Devil Wears Prada”, p.99, Broadway Books

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• I couldn't stop bawling, watching the towers come down. it was a terrible thing to happen. And a terrible thing to realize that I don't sit though the nigh crying when such horrors happen all the time.

  Randa Abdel-Fattah

  Towers, Realizing, Horror

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• Some friends don't understand this. They don't understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you're wonderful just the way you are. They don't understand that I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would.

  Elizabeth Wurtzel

  Depression, Fun, Lying

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• But pain may be a gift to us. Remember, after all, that pain is one of the ways we register in memory the things that vanish, that are taken away. We fix them in our minds forever by yearning, by pain, by crying out. Pain, the pain that seems unbearable at the time, is memory's first imprinting step, the cornerstone of the temple we erect inside us in memory of the dead. Pain is part of memory, and memory is a God-given gift.

  Sue Miller

  Pain, Memories, Taken

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