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Cry Quotes

“When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud And goes down burning into the gulf below, No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud At what has happened. Birds, at least must know It is the change to darkness in the sky. Murmuring something quiet in her breast, One bird begins to close a faded eye; Or overtaken too far from his nest, Hurrying low above the grove, some waif Swoops just in time to his remembered tree. At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. Let the night be too dark for me to see Into the future. Let what will be, be.”

ThinkingKnowsEyeNightVoiceDarkDarknessSunHappenedHeardTreeSkyCryQuietSafeLowsBirdCloudsBurningRememberedBreastsRaysNestsFadedGroveHurryingMurmuring
Book:Complete Poems of Robert Frost: 1949
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“He resented such questions as people do who have thought a great deal about them. The superficial and slipshod have ready answers, but those looking this complex life straight in the eye acquire a wealth of perception so composed of delicately balanced contradictions that they dread, or resent, the call to couch any part of it in a bland generalization. The vanity (if not outrage) of trying to cage this dance of atoms in a single definition may give the weariness of age with the cry of youth for answers the appearance of boredom.”

PeopleIfsGivingTryingMayEyeAgeWealthAnswersDealsCryYouthReadyPerceptionComplexesDefinitionsAppearanceVanityBoredomAcquireContradictionAtomsDreadBalancedSuperficialCagesCouchesOutrageResentWearinessBlandGeneralization
Author:Peter De Vries
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“February. Get ink, shed tears. Write of it, sob your heart out, sing, While torrential slush that roars Burns in the blackness of the spring. Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas, Race through the noice of bells and wheels To where the ink and all you grieving Are muffled when the rainshower falls. To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal, A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees, Fall down into the puddles, hurl Dry sadness deep into the eyes. Below, the wet black earth shows through, With sudden cries the wind is pitted, The more haphazard, the more true The poetry that sobs its heart out.”

WritingHeartShowsEyeEarthFallBlackRaceTreeSadnessCryTearsWindSixSpringGrievingDryWheelsBellsWetShedInkFalling DownBlacknessFebruaryPuddlesPearsCharcoalHaphazardSlush
Author:Boris Pasternak
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“This, after all, was the month in which families began tightening and closing and sealing; from Thanksgiving to the New Year, everybody's world contracted, day by day, into the microcosmic single festive household, each with its own rituals and obsessions, rules and dreams. You didn't feel you could call people. They didn't feel they could phone you. How does one cry for help from these seasonal prisons?”

PeopleWorldFeelsYearsDoeHelpingDreamCryMonthsPrisonPhonesObsessionRitualNew YearHouseholdClosingFestive
Author:Zadie Smith
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“You ever watch a football game and get totally into it? Why? It's not a real battle. It's just a game somebody made up. So how can you take it seriously? Or, you ever see a movie that made your heart about jump out of your chest? Or one that made you cry? Why? It wasn't real. You ever look at a photo of food that made your mouth water? Why? You can't eat the picture. . . . . . Same thing with water towers and God. I don't have to be a believer to be serious about my religion.”

LooksHeartMadeRealGamesWaterWatchesCryFootballSeriousBattleMouthsBelieverChestsTowersFootball GameReal You
Author:Pete Hautman
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“Whenever humanity seems condemned to heaviness, I think I should fly like Perseus into a different space. I don't mean escaping into dreams or into the irrational. I mean that I have to change my approach, look at the world from a different perspective, with a different logic and with fresh methods of cognition and verification.”

ThinkingWorldShouldBelieveLooksMeanDifferentDreamSeemsHumanityI BelieveSpaceCryPerspectiveBattleApproachLogicMethodIrrationalEscapingCognitionDifferent PerspectiveWholeheartedlyHeavinessVerificationBattle CryPerseus
Author:Italo Calvino
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“That's a nice song,' said young Sam, and Vimes remembered that he was hearing it for the first time. It's an old soldiers' song,' he said. Really, sarge? But it's about angels.' Yes, thought Vimes, and it's amazing what bits those angels cause to rise up as the song progresses. It's a real soldiers' song: sentimental, with dirty bits. As I recall, they used to sing it after battles,’ he said. 'I've seen old men cry when they sing it,’ he added. Why? It sounds cheerful.' They were remembering who they were not singing it with, thought Vimes. You'll learn. I know you will.”

KnowsMenFirstsSaidRealRememberYoungUsedSongCausesBitsSoundNiceProgressCryBattleSingingAngelFirst TimeSoldierHearingDirtyRememberedOld ManRecallsSentimentalCheerfulOld SoldiersSam VimesReal Soldiers
Book:Night Watch
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“She liked being reminded of butterflies. She remembered being six or seven and crying over the fates of the butterflies in her yard after learning that they lived for only a few days. Her mother had comforted her and told her not to be sad for the butterflies, that just because their lives were short didn't mean they were tragic. Watching them flying in the warm sun among the daisies in their garden, her mother had said to her, see, they have a beautiful life. Alice liked remembering that.”

LifeMeanSaidBeautifulRememberMotherSunFateCrySixGardenSevenWarmFlyingRememberedTragicButterflyYardsBeautiful LifeDaisies
Author:Lisa Genova
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“The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked. She was sobbing. Bawling. Crying so hard her whole body was shaking. He didn't ask any questions, just wrapped himself around her. I'm not okay," she said hoarsely between breaths. "Rhage...I'm not okay.”

SaidHardWholeBodyAsksHouseStepsDoorsFeetFrontsCryArmsShotsOkayBreathsBotherGrassRanNecksMaryJumpingShakingFlewSpineCrackedFrostPorchFront DoorsGrabbingSobbingJumping OffNot OkayBare FeetRhage
Book:The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide
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“Concerning the Gods, there are those who deny the very existence of the Godhead; others say that it exists, but neither bestirs nor concerns itself not has forethought far anything. A third party attribute to it existence and forethought, but only for great and heavenly matters, not for anything that is on earth. A fourth party admit things on earth as well as in heaven, but only in general, and not with respect to each individual. A fifth, of whom were Ulysses and Socrates, are those that cry: -- I move not without Thy knowledge!”

WellsMatterEarthMovingIndividualHeavenPartyExistenceCryConcernThirdsDenyHeavenlyAttributesFourthFifthUlyssesThird PartiesForethought
Book:The Philosophy of Epictetus: Golden Sayings and Fragments
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“Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice? Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.”

IfsWantLooksLightEyeNiceFeetSpecialCryPityEveningTiesExtrasTwilightHer EyesMistMeadowsDriftingPigeonsWednesdayPasturesMittensGloaming
Author:Carl Sandburg
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“There should be a statute of limitation on grief. A rulebook that says it is all right to wake up crying, but only for a month. That after 42 days you will no longer turn with your heart racing, certain you have heard her call out your name. That there will be no fine imposed if you feel the need to clean out her desk; take down her artwork from the refrigerator; turn over a school portrait as you pass - if only because it cuts you fresh again to see it. That it's okay to measure the time she has been gone, the way we once measured her birthdays.”

IfsWayNeedsFeelsShouldHeartHas BeensSchoolCertainTimeTurnsNamesGriefGoneCuttingHeardCryFineMonthsOkayWake UpCleanLimitationGrievingRacingDesksPortraitsArtworkRefrigeratorsStatutesHeart Racing
Author:Jodi Picoult
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“Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have never seen before, and hope never to see again. Oh, I wasn't touched. I was fascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw on that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror--of an intense and hopeless despair. Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision--he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath: The horror! The horror!”

MomentsFacesDesireVisionStruggleSawsCryExpressionPrideHorrorDespairBreathsTerrorDetailsSupremeSurrenderIntenseTemptationFeaturesTouchedHopelessFascinatedCriedVeilsRuthlessIvoryHeart Of Darkness
Author:Joseph Conrad
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“Some people, they can't just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me... I don't know. I didn't want to fix it, to forget. It wasn't something that was broken. It's just...something that happened. And like that hole, I'm just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time.”

PeopleKnowsWayWantDoneSeemsRememberMovingForgetHappenedCryBrokenFindingsHolesForget ItMournJust Move On
Author:Sarah Dessen
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“The earth will never be the same again Rock, water, tree, iron, share this greif As distant stars participate in the pain. A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf, A dolphin death, O this particular loss A Heaven-mourned; for if no angel cried If this small one was tossed away as dross, The very galaxies would have lied. How shall we sing our love's song now In this strange land where all are born to die? Each tree and leaf and star show how The universe is part of this one cry, Every life is noted and is cherished, and nothing loved is ever lost or perished.”

IfsShowsEarthPainLife IsSongDiesFallUniverseLostHeavenStarsWaterBornLossTreeShareLandRocksCryParticularStrangeAngelIronCandleCriedLeafsOur LoveGalaxyLiedDolphinsDrossBorn To DieGreif
Author:Madeleine L'Engle
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“...Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing. Beauty grown sad with its eternity Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea. Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait, For God has bid them share an equal fate; And when at last defeated in His wars, They have gone down under the same white stars, We shall no longer hear the little cry Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.”

WorldHeartMayLittlesLongMadeWarLastsDiesStarsWaitingWhiteGoneFateHeardSeaShareCrySweetSorrowEqualEternityRoseRingsShipsBellsTidesDefeatedSailGreyWovenSad Heart
Book:When You Are Old: Early Poems, Plays, and Fairy Tales
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“There is an inability to sustain the tragic mood, a phoenix quality of the mind. It may be helpful or harmful, it is just a part of the will to survive—yet, also, it has made it possible for us to engage in one weakening war after another. But it is a necessary part of our mechanism that we should be able to cry only for a time over even an ocean of spilt milk—the spectacular must soon become the commonplace if life is to be supportable.”

IfsShouldMindMayMadeWarAbleLife IsQualityCryOceanMoodMade ItTragicHelpfulMilkMechanismInabilitySpectacularCommonplacePhoenixWeakeningWill To SurviveSpilt Milk
Book:The Day of the Triffids
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“I know why people die of hopelessness. It comes on like a thick blanket, covering your thoughts, your confidence, creeping into your mind and filling the corners. I lie in the dark, suffocating under horrible dispare, wishing I were dead. I sleep, then wake, then sleep. The sleep is filled with monstrous dreams that attack, cry out, and vanish, leaving me once more awake and staring into the darkness. Help me! My mind is screaming, but there is no one to hear.”

PeopleKnowsMindHelpingDreamLyingDiesWishDarkSleepDarknessCryFilledLeavingCornersHorribleStaringAwakeHelp MeThickHopelessnessFillingLeaving MeBlanketCoveringMonstrousSuffocating
Author:Joan Lowery Nixon
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“Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us.”

HeartDoeLostGrowsWaterNatureMemoriesGriefEmotionTreeSadnessCryTearsFlowerComfortAnd LoveFruitHealGrievingAshamedSunlightWoundedLost OnesWounded HeartEmotional LoveRedwallMemories And Love
Book:Taggerung
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“I was eleven when my father left, so neither of us really knew our fathers. I’d met mine of course, but then I only knew my dad as a child knows a parent, as a sort of crude outline filled in with one or two colors. I’d never seen my father scared or cry. I’d never heard him admit to any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he dreamed of. And once I’d seen a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when my mum had yelled at him. Now he was gone, and I was left with just an impression—one of male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter.”

KnowsChildrenTwoIdeasBigsCoursesFatherLeftParentDarknessGoneHeardCryMinesColorArmsDadMetsLaughterFilledMalesMy DadScaredImpressionNo IdeaLoudWarmthCheeksMumOur FatherElevenOutlinesCrudeWrongdoingFilled InLoud Laughter
Author:Lloyd Jones
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