Tears Quotes - Page 2

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.

You make it sound so terrible. There’s nothing wrong with crying. Tears are healing. They help you drain out the sorrow and anguish, so you can start filling yourself with more positive emotions, when you’re ready.

All right, all right," he said, with that gesture I'd come to hate: two open palms facing me and patting the air, as if pushing me away, pushing me down, pushing any tears I might be preparing to cry back into their ducts.

It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.

The more you cry today, the more stronger and happier you'll be tomorrow.

Is the ocean simply a great pool of tears? I should like to think that even the stars must cry.

These are the winter's people, he reminded himself. Tears froze upon your cheeks where they come from.

Alone, all alone in the world, sad and small like a nightingale serenading the infinite. How could a love so tender and sweet become the cross of my pain? No, no, I can't conceive I won't receive your precious lips again. My eyes are tired of weeping, my heart of beating. If perhaps some crystal moment before dawn or twilight you remember me, bring only a bouquet of tears to lay upon my thirsty grave.

I am who I am because the tears of my past have watered the magnificence of my present.

A tree does not despair when its fruit falls to the ground, because it knows in due time, its seeds will rise.

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.

Crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes. There is no real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion.

Huang Sung turned to the master and asked, "Master, will it come to pass?"The master looked up into the sky and then turned to Huang Sung, "When the sky is red from our tears and the earth is blackened by the ashes of our forefathers and then, when we look inwards to where our hearts once were, then we shall know that it has come to pass, but not in the time allotted to man."From a book that I am writing, called, "The Teachings of Huang Sung.

They cried. Yes, yes, they cried. Cried more tears than the Mississippi could hold, but those tears never washed away their faith…

Only pain can define the meaning of tears.

I stood in my garden as the rain poured down, eyes closed, and when I opened them I thought to myself how I'd never seen anything more beautiful. Green flashed before my eyes; trees, leaves and grass, glittering with raindrops, the tears of angels weeping with sadness and joy; green, the colour of love, to remind me why I'm here.

My eyes were glued on lifeand they were full of tears.

When a stargirl cries, she sheds not tears but light.

Unshed tears leave a deposit on your heart. Eventually they form a crust around it and paralyze it, the way mineral deposits paralyze a washing machine.

When men cry, real men, we cry Man Tears. Those are tears made up of actual meat. We basically cry pork chops and steaks. Imagine a steak tearing its way out of your eye. It hurts like hell, which causes more tears. It's a vicious cycle

Never a tear bedims the eye That time and patience will not dry.

You touched my heart...ever so softlyand I realizedtears had never been...merely saltand the rainOh the Rain!had never been merely water.

Life hands us storms so we can paint rainbows.

Nearly all God's jewels are crystallized tears.

Today's tears sweep the road to tomorrow's blessings.

she...let the blood spill down instead of tears.

One day it may feel as if energy and enthusiasm are quenched, feelings dried up and emotions scorched, love and affection tangled in a harsh and uninviting setting. Nothing seems to grow anymore. No seed. No flowers. No foreseeable hope. No conceivable prospects. Any blossom of expectation seems to have become an illusion and life appears to have come to a standstill. If no seed of loving care is sown in the untilled, abandoned land, no bud can come into flower. Singer Amy Winehouse felt like lying fallow in the ground of a wasteland "with tears dry, dying a hundred times, going back to black" and leaving eventually for a place of ultimate sorrow and heartbreak, for a point of no return. ( “Amour en friche” )

Man cries, his tears dry up and run out. So he becomes a devil, reduced to a monster.

Krystal flung herself violently off the chair, away from her mother. She was surprised to feel warm liquid flowing down her cheeks, and thought confusedly of blood, but it was tears, only tears, clear and shining on her fingertips when she wiped them away.

What is it about tears that should be so terrifying? the touch of God is marked by tears...deep, soul-shaking tears, weeping...it comes when that last barrier is down and you surrender yourself to health and wholeness

Dr. Richard Selzer is a surgeon and a favorite author of mine. He writes the most beautiful and compassionate descriptions of his patients and the human dramas they confront. In his book Letters to a Young Doctor, he said that most young people seem to be protected for a time by an imaginary membrane that shields them from horror. They walk in it every day but are hardly aware of its presence. As the immune system protects the human body from the unseen threat of harmful bacteria, so this mythical membrane guards them from life-threatening situations. Not every young person has this protection, of course, because children do die of cancer, congenital heart problems, and other disorders. But most of them are shielded—and don’t realize it. Then, as years roll by, one day it happens. Without warning, the membrane tears, and horror seeps into a person’s life or into the life of a loved one. It is at this moment that an unexpected theological crisis presents itself.

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...

A single tear forms, just in the corner of one eye, but it doesn't roll down my cheek; it merely crystallizes in the cold air, it grows and grows into a second giant globe that doesn't want to orbit with the world—it breaks off from the planet and plunges into infinity.

I felt the tears streak down my cheeks but I wasn't crying.

Umbrellas raining upon me, as these cloudy tears give me shelter.

Insecurities have the ability to shape and mold our minds to live with everything that’s bad; like crying on the inside, while smiling on the outside…thus creating pain…but, alas, I have the answer; forget about what you thought and enjoy (embrace) what you feel

Don’t want no more rock,” Orc repeated.The bleeding stopped almost immediately.“Does it hurt?” Lana asked. “I mean the rock. I know the hole hurts.”“No. It don’t hurt.” Orc slammed his fist against his opposite arm, hard enough that any human arm would have been shattered. “I barely feel it. Even Drake’s whip, when we was fighting, I barely felt it.”Suddenly he was weeping. Tears rolled from human eyes onto cheeks of flesh and pebbles.“I don’t feel nothing except…” He pointed a thick stone finger at the flesh of his face.“Yeah,” Lana said. Her irritation was gone. Her burden was smaller, maybe, than Orc’s.

i love good cries,loud sobs that soak your pillowthat kind that come at the endof a perfect bookyou're gasping for airas droplets of salt water trickle down your cheeksinto the corners of your mouthas your chest rises and fallsand your vision is blurredby the tearsbut your mind is so clear and your every thoughtin that moment feels so meaningfuland important and rightit feels okay to justlet it all outit makes you feel likeyou are free

Never knew the word Goodbye could scatter my heart into pieces. Just 1 word, could made me cry over you.

The memory slowly faded away. I could feel tears strolling down my snout from my eyes. I missed my father... He did what he could to save me that day.

WHO AM I?I have seven heavenly panelsLeading up to a pointed sphereI’m multidimensional like a crystalAnd my center is never clear.I’m an inventor and pioneer.A mentor to my peers.But I'm not as sound as my shell reveals,Because I’m tormented by my fears -That may appear to be groundedBut my insides are filled with tears.And the sadness is well-founded,From years and yearsOf traumatic experiencesCompoundedIn the most dementedAtmospheres.I talk but feel like nobody hears.Has reason disappeared?And, God, are you near?This is Giza’s 7th light forceAnd I'm asking you to interfere.I can no longer walk amongst the blind and deadWith open eyes and ears.I’m trying to maintain my sanityAnd to straighten up my veneerAs I roll amongst the growing calamitiesFlowing on Earth’s severely trashedFrontier.Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

Give them back! Give my tears back, right now——with interest!!

She's absolutely beautiful. Her hope is beautiful. The smile on her face is beautiful. The tears streaming down her cheeks are beautiful.Herloveisbeautiful.

Hearing those words, I instinctively turn to my new keeper, regretting it, because for only the third time in my entire existence, tears are streaming down my cheeks.

I may not have wings, but my hands do a better job in wiping away the tears anyway.

What they ask you for is actions, proofs, works, and all you can produce are transformed tears.

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.

I ran outta tears of sadness when I was 20 & all I got left is tears of joy.

Your deepest scars tell the world of your greatest triumphs.

Tears are the souls raindrops softening the hard ground life can produce.

The tears that kept Buttercup company the remainder of the day were not at all like those that had blinded her into the tree trunk. Those were noisy and hot; they pulsed. These were silent and steady and all they did was remind her that she wasn’t good enough. She was seventeen, and every male she’d ever known had crumbled at her feet and it meant nothing. The one time it really mattered, she wasn’t good enough.

God will hear your cry even when your voice can't shout out loud unto him. He will see your tears even when can no longer shed any.

All she wanted was a breathing space in which to hurt.

My tears of joyhear the raindrops crying,as the rain never wants to pourdown on my cloudy dayswhen I makeour love-dreamsfor the sun to dreamonly for you....(From the poem "Only For You" By Munia Khan)

He wipes tears off my face and then snot. He uses his hands. He loves me that much.

I count everything. Even numbers, odd numbers, multiples of 10. I count the ticks of the clock i count the tocks of the clock I count the lines between the lines on a sheet of paper. I count the broken beats of my heart I count my pulse and my blinks and the number of tries it takes to inhale enough oxygen for my lungs. I stay like this I stand like this I count like this until the feeling stops. Until the tears stop spilling, until my fists stop shaking, until my heart stops aching. There are never enough numbers.

I hate tears,it makes it easy to forget someone.

Don’t lose the positive power to make right choices that will convert your tears into smiles.

Have you ever noticed,” he said, stirred now by this vision of domestic bliss that was beyond his reach, and shocked earlier that evening to find himself crying in the subway on his way home from a client, “that gay people secrete everything in each other’s presence but tears?

One's suffering, one's melancholy is, in itself, really only looked upon as failure or as punishment, as detestable or sinful or socially unacceptable in the eyes of man; but this is not so in the eyes of God: for He is close to the broken-hearted.