Best 1080 quotes in «cry quotes» category

Sleep! May be you will wake up tomorrow and find that things never changed, the apocalypse never happened, and everything's fine, normal, at home. Or may be you will wake up tomorrow and find that things have changed, for the better, the apocalypse is over and there's light, hope and a new home. Sleep, you crazy soul, just sleep.

Smile. Smile until all that's left are the pieces of your broken heart that are slowly fixing itself.

Some boys walk by and you cry, seeing them. They feel good, they look good, they are good. Oh, they're not above peeing off a bridge, or stealing an occasional dime-store pencil sharpener; it's not that. It's just, you know, seeing them pass, that's how they'll be all their life; they'll get hit, hurt, cut, bruised, and always wonder why, why does it happen? how can it happen to them?

Sometimes a friend is most important, for friends are always there to laugh, cry, travel, see, hide, and feel with the other person. They will always be there. That is the measure of a true person: being a friend. It’s so much more than you think.

Sometimes,” I said, “you have to cry before you can smile again.

Sometimes, when you are worn down, day after day, relentlessly, with no reprieve for years piled on years, sometimes you lose everything but the ability to cry.

Sometimes you want to cry but the tears deceive you, but at other, you just want to hold the tears but they disobey you.

Stay away from any minute of joy that can bring you a lifetime of sorrow.

So you want we to play a game? ... Aha, I like that...! I FUCKING LOVE IT!

Sunny held Kit, and Violet held Klaus, and for a minute the four castaways did nothing but weep, letting their tears run down their faces and into the sea, which some have said is nothing but a library of all tears in history.

Stop your whining. If you are frightened, be silent. Whining is for prey. It attracts predators. And you are not prey.

Tears will not fill your stomach; Tears will not bring kindness. If you have time to shed tears, laugh; someone will be willing to look at a hearty smile more then a tear soaked sponge.

Tears are good for you," Raphael said. When she opened her eyes back up, he knelt down. His large frame seemed to make the room shrink. His face was almost level with hers as his eyes met Emma's. "They are a gift from the Creator to his creation. Tears release endorphins in the mind that help sooth and comfort. They cleanse the eyes and relieve stress, thereby lowering blood pressure and taking strain off of the heart. He created you with tears and nothing he created is bad. Those tears you are holding in are necessary, Emma. Let them fall, let them heal, and let them remind you with each one that you are not alone.

Tears are not thorns.

Talkatives complain, cry, shout, brag, and are more hysterical about their lives than something else; don’t be a part of that tragedy! Perhaps it's been a while now that you have been complaining, crying and shouting about your "labour pains". It's time to show us your baby!

The degree of your cry to God to a question mark in your life is determined by the degree of how such question has consumed you

Thanks To Those People Who Give A Taste Of Right Ways. ” - Zia Mustafa

That's it," he said bitterly. "Cry, Cassie. Cry for her. Cry for all the children. They can't hear you and they can't see you and can't feel how really bad you feel, but cry for them. A tear for each of them, fill up the fucking ocean, cry.

That was my go-to emotion lately. When I wanted to scream, I stayed silent. When I wanted to cry, hit something or complain, I stayed silent.

The dead shouldn’t cry, not even the lesser dead.

The difference between a child and an adult getting their haircut is that the child will cry during it. The adult will wait till afterwards.

That's enough crying about the problems, let's begin killing the problems.

The doors of the darkest room one had ever seen were opened and everyone was asked to collect the pieces of themselves that they have lost with time all these years. Everyone rushed in and started searching for the pieces that would complete them but all of a sudden they saw the light in the room fading away, they turned around and saw the doors closing back again. They screamed and tried to run back but all of a sudden there were fences all around them, they lost their voice and helplessly stuck in there saw the doors closing. They lost themselves completely in the quest of searching the pieces they had lost before.

The first music I ever heard was only one hundred and sixty days after I was conceived. Da dum Da dum Da dum Have you ever heard the sound a blessing makes? This is it. The first thing I ever saw was only one hundred and eighty days after I was conceived. It was a bright light soft like clouds warm like candles. Have you ever seen the colour of a blessing? This is it. The first time I ever suffered was in the three thousand and sixty seconds after I was born. I listened for her heartbeat. I searched for her light. I cried for the first time until she was born. Have you ever known a blessing? A twin is it.

The intruders spoke no words as they rushed in. Five boys carrying baseball bats and tire irons. They wore an assortment of Halloween masks and stocking masks. But Derek knew who they were. “No! No!” he cried. All five boys wore bulky shooter’s earmuffs. They couldn’t hear him. But more importantly, they couldn’t hear Jill. One of the boys stayed in the doorway. He was in charge. A runty kid named Hank. The stocking pulled down over his face smashed his features into Play-Doh, but it could only be Hank. One of the boys, fat but fast-moving and wearing an Easter Bunny mask, stepped to Derek and hit him in the stomach with his aluminum baseball bat. Derek dropped to his knees. Another boy grabbed Jill. He put his hand over her mouth. Someone produced a roll of duct tape. Jill screamed. Derek tried to stand, but the blow to his stomach had winded him. He tried to stand up, but the fat boy pushed him back down. “Don’t be stupid, Derek. We’re not after you.” The duct tape went around and around Jill’s mouth. They worked by flashlight. Derek could see Jill’s eyes, wild with terror. Pleading silently with her big brother to save her. When her mouth was sealed, the thugs pulled off their shooter’s earmuffs. Hank stepped forward. “Derek, Derek, Derek,” Hank said, shaking his head slowly, regretfully. “You know better than this.” “Leave her alone,” Derek managed to gasp, clutching his stomach, fighting the urge to vomit. “She’s a freak,” Hank said. “She’s my little sister. This is our home.” “She’s a freak,” Hank said. “And this house is east of First Avenue. This is a no-freak zone.” “Man, come on,” Derek pleaded. “She’s not hurting anyone.” “It’s not about that,” a boy named Turk said. He had a weak leg, a limp that made it impossible not to recognize him. “Freaks with freaks, normals with normals. That’s the way it has to be.” “All she does is—” Hank’s slap stung. “Shut up. Traitor. A normal who stands up for a freak gets treated like a freak. Is that what you want?” “Besides,” the fat boy said with a giggle, “we’re taking it easy on her. We were going to fix her so she could never sing again. Or talk. If you know what I mean.” He pulled a knife from a sheath in the small of his back. “Do you, Derek? Do you understand?” Derek’s resistance died. “The Leader showed mercy,” Turk said. “But the Leader isn’t weak. So this freak either goes west, over the border right now. Or…” He let the threat hang there. Jill’s tears flowed freely. She could barely breathe because her nose was running. Derek could see that by the way she sucked tape into her mouth, trying for air. She would suffocate if they didn’t let her go soon. “Let me at least get her doll.

THE FOUR HEAVENLY FOUNTAINS Laugh, I tell you And you will turn back The hands of time. Smile, I tell you And you will reflect The face of the divine. Sing, I tell you And all the angels will sing with you! Cry, I tell you And the reflections found in your pool of tears - Will remind you of the lessons of today and yesterday To guide you through the fears of tomorrow.

Their feelings were suppressed so carefully in everyday life, forced into smaller and smaller spaces, until seemingly minor events took on insane and frightening significance. It was permissible to touch each other and cry during football matches.

There are some mornings when I cry and cry and mourn for myself. Some mornings, I'm so angry and bitter. But it doesn't last too long. Then I get up and say, 'I want to live..' 'So far, I've been able to do it. Will I be able to continue? I don't know. But I'm betting on myself I will.' Koppel seemed extremely taken with Morrie. He asked about the humility that death induced.

The Lord has heard your cries. He will help you.

There are so many moments in our life which we cannot describe with mere words. There are not enough adjectives to justify the emotions behind such moments. Those moments are your life- they define who you truly are

There are struggles you cannot win, but a man can meet his own heart if value is found in loss. Give yourself permission to cry.

The reason kids are happier than adults is that they can cry their heart out after getting hurt.

There is a person who had a crush on you, thought of you, dreamed of you and probably even cried because of you. And you will never know. Always be yourself.

There is no man who does not cry much. There will not be any people who will laugh more than crying. Basically the intensity of grief or weight is billions of times more than laughing. Therefore, it seems as though the happier moments of life than the sad moments of life have got more sorrow.

There is something you can never understand, what wrong with them and what wrong with you

These stories always take us to some far away places which we can never visit in real life.

The thing that breaks the heart of God and makes him to cry out of frustration for his men and their whereabouts is when equity has been squeezed out of the public square

The water in the pond inside my heart doesn't shine anymore. It has turned dark. Every ghost from my mind breaks all the barriers and take a dip there, making it darker. and every time it happens, my soul in the pond cries with pain.

The whole point of crying was to quit before you cornied it up. The whole point of grief itself was to cut it out while it was still honest, while it still meant something. Because the thing was so easily corrupted, let yourself go and you started embellishing your own sobs.

The world is a stage and we must wear makeup. Very few will value the real you, and those are the ones who will never give you a reason to cry.

The worse thing I have done in my life is Diary writing.... a wastage of time, wastage of papers filled with some imaginary feelings and bunch of silly activities done each day.... I cant feel any glimpse of appreciable work done by me, as whatever right I did, my Diary says " you were suppose to do it, so it was not a big deal....huhhh..." I passed my last few nights in reading most of its pages.... "I laughed on the lines telling about my saddest moments and nights when I cried….. but I felt woeful and downhearted on the lines telling about the moments when I shared my smile with someone, when I enjoyed the moments with my friends and near and dear ones, who r far and far now, and we can’t get those moments back in this busy selfish life" So now its better in busy life to live evry day and forget it in night.... enjoy life.... save papers.... no diary writing from today..... Sorry Diary, You will Miss Me....

They'll say you are bad or perhaps you are mad or at least you should stay undercover. Your mind must be bare if you would dare to think you can love more than one lover.

They will cry, he will shout but you must sweat.

They wouldn’t have understood if they found him crying, when he woke and remembered all at once that he had once had a wife and child, so they never found him this way.

Things you crave for won't come if you cry, but when you craft and create. Creativity digs up the buried gold.

Thirsty for attention is a cry of loneliness.

This was a different kind of a kiss, not one that leads to something, but a hard, painful one. It was a goodbye kiss.

There comes a sacred moment, when a man must cry out to his Saviour, this is time of surrender to the son of Man.

— This world is full of trouble, umfundisi. — Who knows it better? — Yet you believe? Kumalo looked at him under the light of the lamp. I believe, he said, but I have learned that it is a secret. Pain and suffering, they are a secret. Kindness and love, they are a secret. But I have learned that kindness and love can pay for pain and suffering. There is my wife, and you, my friend, and these people who welcomed me, and the child who is so eager to be with us here in Ndotsheni – so in my suffering I can believe. — I have never thought that a Christian would be free of suffering, umfundisi. For our Lord suffered. And I come to believe that he suffered, not to save us from suffering, but to teach us how to bear suffering. For he knew that there is no life without suffering. Kumalo looked at his friend with joy. You are a preacher, he said.

Those who laugh with you when you laugh are acquaintances, those who cry with you when you cry are companions, and those who do both are friends.