I am crying, he thought, opening his eyes to stare through the soapy, stinging water. I feel like crying, so I must be crying, but it's impossible to tell because I'm underwater. But he wasn't crying. Curiously, he felt too depressed to cry. Too hurt. It felt as if she'd taken the part of him that cried.
Crying is NOT a weakness. Cry as much as you have to. Don't be afraid or ashamed to let your tears flow. Crying is a natural part of life. We all have feelings, and sometimes crying is all that we can do. Crying can help relieve the pain, hurt, disappointments, and all of the other things that life can throw our way. Know that it's okay, and know that you're going to be okay as well. Wishing You: Peace of mind, Comfort, Happiness, Joy within and LOVE.
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 bodies which we resist.
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.
Each day brought just another minute of the things they could not leave behind. Jane Barrington sitting on the train coming back to Leningrad from Moscow, holding on to her son, knowing she had failed him, crying for Alexander, wanting another drink, and Harold, in his prison cell, crying for Alexander, and Yuri Stepanov on his stomach in the mud in Finland, crying for Alexander, and Dasha in the truck, on the Ladoga ice, crying for Alexander, and Tatiana on her knees in the Finland marsh, screaming for Alexander, and Anthony, alone with his nightmares, crying for his father.
There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don't know and even the people you don't want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.
We seem to live in a world where you have to walk around grinning like a loon. I can't understand all the fuss about Mona Lisa painting, everyone wondering why she's not smiling, if she's depressed or heartbroken. No, she was just normal! Emotions are always extreme these days: you either have to be crying with laughter or crying in pain. No wonder water levels are rising. It's not global warming, it's all the tears from crying.
I'm trying to teach my children not to cry. That's the big thing. No crying. Because I think we can all agree that crying is, for the most part, for sissies. If my team loses, I'm going to cry. And I'm going to want my kids to see me crying. Not because I think sports are so important, but because I bet so much money on the game that we'll probably lose the house if my team doesn't win. That's something to cry about.
Michael Ian Black
I suppose I've always done my share of crying, especially when there's no other way to contain my feelings. I know that men ain't supposed to cry, but I think that's wrong. Crying's always been a way for me to get things out which are buried deep, deep down. When I sing, I often cry. Crying is feeling, and feeling is being human. Oh yes, I cry.
My mother, daroga, my poor, unhappy mother would never... let me kiss her... She used to run away... and throw me my mask!... Nor any other woman... ever, ever!... Ah, you can understand, my happiness was so great, I cried. And fell at her feet, crying... and I kissed her feet... her little feet... crying. You're crying, too, daroga... and she cried also... the angel cried!...
Hey. Know what happened to me today?" He sits back and crosses his arms, smiles. "No. What happened to you today?" "Well, I decided to take the bus to work instead of driving? And I got on and I sat behind this woman who started crying. She was very quiet about it, just every now and then she would reach up and wipe away a tear. She had this kerchief on her head, this ratty old flowered kerchief, but it was clean and it was tied very neatly, you know. And she had her purse on her lap and she was holding on to it like it was hands. At first nobody else seemed to notice she was crying, but then everybody around her did. And it got very quiet. And then finally this man got up from the back of the bus, and he came up and sat next to her and put his arm around her, and he didn't say a word, but just stared straight ahead with his arm around her and she kept crying, but it was better now, you could tell, she kind of had a little smile even though she was still crying. And I don't know if he even knew her! I think everybody was wondering the same thing: Does he even know her? I guess he must have known her; otherwise she probably would have leaped up and started screaming or something, but you never know! You just never know, it might have been someone whose heart went out to her because she was crying. And he decided he would comfort her. And she let him. And I think it was a kind of miracle. A living parable or something.
One time I was doing a speech to a group of kids, and just before I get there, I see this little kid crying. I found out they just lost a game, and he was the losing pitcher. I went over there, put my arm around him, and said, 'What are you crying for? When major league players lose, they don't cry.'
Once the state starts providing, it feels free to hand out the rules, too!" Larch blurted hastily... "In a better world... " she began patiently. "No, not in a better world!" he cried. "In this one-in this world. I take this world as a given. Talk to me about this world!"... "Oh, I can't always be right, " Larch said tiredly. "Yes, I know, " Nurse Caroline said sympathetically. "It's because even a good man can't always be right that we need a society, that we need certain rules-call them priorities, if you prefer, " she said... Always in the background of his mind, there was a newborn baby crying... And they were not crying to be born, he knew; they were crying because they were born.
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.
I have the embarrassing thing where often if you're watching a film, you kind of go through the emotions and the thought stages that your character went through, but you sort of do it with Tourette's. So I end up often crying when I'm crying, and looking angry when I'm looking angry, so it's pretty ugly.
Mr. Ferris didn't say anything the whole time. He sat next to me and listened. And when I finished, I looked at him. He was crying. I'm not lying. He was crying. I don't think it was because how hard I hit him. I know how the Black-Backed Gull feels when he looks up into the sky. Maybe, somehow, Mr. Ferris does too.
Gary D. Schmidt
The whole Beatle thing was just beyond comprehension. When 'Help' came out, I was actually crying out for help. Most people think it's just a fast rock 'n roll song. I didn't realize it at the time; I just wrote the song because I was commissioned to write it for the movie. But later, I knew I really was crying out for help.
Everybody knows from his own experience that after laughter, good laughter, a belly laugh, you almost feel that you have taken an ice-cold shower; a peace, a silence, a freshness... The same is true about crying, but very few people know the secret of crying because it is more repressed than laughter.
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?
My name it means nothing my fortune is less My future is shrouded in dark wilderness Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on Everything I posessed - Now they are gone Oh where can I go to and what can I do? Nothing can please me only thoughts are of you You just laughed when I begged you to stay I've not stopped crying since you went away The world is a lonely place when you're on your own Guess I will go home - sit down and moan. Crying and thinking is all that I do Memories I have remind me of you
Take heart now in one true thing: You will gain traction. You will grow upwards even when you think you've been slammed back down into that same dark hole. It will start looking like a different hole, one that might still have you curled up and crying, but that crying will be more transformative than only desperate screams of despair. Your pain can be turned to good account. You're not alone. You've got this handbook. Keep us with you.
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.
I remember when I was a teenager thinking my girlfriend was cheating on me, and going around riling myself up. Pretending to cry. It was totally illegitimate-I actually didn't feel anything. I went to some pub and then went crying all the way home. And I got into my dog's bed. I was crying and holding on to the dog. I woke up in the morning, and the dog was looking at me like, 'You're a fake.'
Are you okay?" she heard someone - Levi? - ask "Hey... are you crying?" Cath ran her fingers along the cover, over the raised gold type. Then someone else ran right into her, pushing the book into Cath's chest. Pushing two books into her chest. Cath looked up just as Wren threw an arm around her. "They're both crying, " Cath heard Reagan say. "I can't even watch." Cath freed an arm to wrap around her sister. "I can't believe it's really over, " she whispered. Wren held her tight and shook her head. She really was crying, too. "Don't be so melodramatic, Cath, " Wren laughed hoarsely. "It's never over... It's Simon.
I don't really understand the point of crying. Also, I feel that crying is almost - like, aside from deaths of relatives or whatever - totally avoidable if you follow two very simple rules: 1. Don't care too much. 2. Shut up. Everything unfortunate that has ever happened to me has stemmed from failure to follow one of the rules.
It is always tedious when someone tells you that if you don't stop crying, they will give you something to cry about, because if you are crying then you already have something to cry about, and so there is no reason for them to give you anything additional to cry about, thank you very much.
Her eyes stung from crying for so long and having some tears dry on them. Her body was weak from the exercise but she did not feel better. While she was crying she had wanted someone, anyone to come and hold her. She had crawled into her closet, hoisted herself up onto the shelf that had duvets and bedsheets and curled herself among those. Now she knew that no hug could erase her pain, no sort of embrace could bind up her heart. She needed a new heart it seemed, her old heart was beyond repair.
Roxanna Aliba Kazibwe
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.
He ran his fingers over the moist ends of her hair and across her face. Her eyes were wet. Jesus Christ. How many nights had he heard Lily crying. As some parents sleep through fire, thunderstorms, and voices at the back door only to wake at a child's whisper, so Everett heard Lily crying at night. Her muffled sobs seemed to have broken his dreams for years. He had heard her even at Fort Lewis, even in Georgia, finally at Bliss. That was Lily crying in the wings whenever the priest came to tear up his mother's grave. Lily cried in the twilight field where he picked wild poppies with Martha; Lily's was the cry he heard those nights the kiln burned, the levee broke, the ranch went to nothing.
I remember one time I heard this English professor asking the class what the world's scariest noise is. Is it a man crying out in pain? A woman's scream of terror? A gunshot? A baby crying? And the professor shakes his head and says, 'No, the scariest noise is, you're all alone in your dark house, you know you're all alone, you know that there is no chance anyone else is home or within miles""and then, suddenly, from upstairs, you hear the toilet flush.
And he isn't crying for her, not for his grandma, he's crying for himself: that he: too, is going to die one day. And before that his friends wil die, and the friends of his friends, and, as time passes, the children of his friends, and, if his fate is truly bitter, his own children. (58)
I LOVE YOU TIL THE DAY I DIE SO DON'T DIE TODAY, PLEASE DON'T DIE TODAY EVERYTHING BUT YOU IS AN UGLY LIE THAT'S NOT HOW YOU PRAY, THAT'S NOW WHAT YOU SAY IF I'M HERE WHEN YOU'RE GONE I'LL FALL APART STOP YOUR CRYING NOW, STOP YOUR CRYING NOW WHAT'S THE POINT OF LIFE WITHOUT MY HEART YOU'RE NOT DYING NOW, YOU'LL SURVIVE SOMEHOW
I couldn't stop crying. This fact in and of itself alarmed me, because for so long, I hadn't been able to cry. And now, here I was, weeping. It didn't feel therapeutic. I know scientists promise that all the negative hormones are being released as you cry, but I didn't notice my emotional stability rising as the tears fell. I just knew I was crying, and my whole body was shaking, and I couldn't make it stop.
I don't think I'd be a party girl [even if I were] in college. When I was in high school, I remember seeing girls crying in the bathroom every Monday about what they did at a party that weekend. I never wanted to be that girl crying in the bathroom. But there are certain things that I would like to do but can't. Sometimes I don't get invited to things because my friends know it's going to be a hassle to take me.
BRINGING BACK SWEET MEMORIES I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW 'CAUSE HE AIN'T HERE WITH ME HEY, WINDOW PANE TELL ME DO YOU REMEMBER HOW SWEET IT USED TO BE? WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER EVERYTHING WAS SO GRAND NOW, THAT WE'RE PARTED THERE'S A ONE SOUND THAT I JUST CAN'T STAND I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW BRINGING BACK SWEET MEMORIES I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW HE'S NOT HERE WITH ME WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER EVERYTHING WAS SO GRAND I THOUGHT YOU GOT SOME SWEET MEMORIES BUT THERE'S A ONE SOUND THAT I JUST CAN'T STAND CRYING, CRYING, CRYING CRYING, CRYING, CRYING I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW BRINGING BACK SWEET MEMORIES I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW 'CAUSE HE AIN'T HERE WITH ME GET OFF FROM MY WINDOW BRINGING BACK SWEET MEMORIES I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW BRINGING BACK SWEET MEMORIES BRINGING BACK SWEET MEMORIES I CAN'T STAND THE RAIN AGAINST MY WINDOW