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Weeping Quotes

Browse 407 quotes about Weeping.

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Weeping Quotes

“Helpless, heartbroken and lonely, Katrien sank into the grass at the side of the road and wept—wept until she had no more tears. Darkness had already set in by the time she picked up the overturned basket and headed home. From somewhere in the grass came the gleam of a silver thimble…”

TimeLonelinessTearsHeartbreakWeepingHelplessnessKatrienSocial AlienationThimble
Book:Anne Frank's Tales from the Secret Annex: A Collection of Her Short Stories, Fables, and Lesser-Known Writings
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“At the top of the page I wrote my full name [...] At the sight of it, many thoughts rushed through me, but I could write down only this: "I wish I could love someone so much that I would die from it." And then as I looked at this sentence a great deal of shame came over me and I wept and wept so much that the tears fell on the page and caused all the words to become one great big blur.”

LoveLifeDeathSadnessDespairDepressionShameWeepingName
Author:Jamaica Kincaid
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“[The Old Astronomer to His Pupil] Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet, When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet; He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how We are working to completion, working on from then to now. Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete, Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet, And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original and true, And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on you. But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn, You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn, What for us are all distractions of men's fellowship and smiles; What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles. You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late, But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant's fate. Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. What, my boy, you are not weeping? You should save your eyes for sight; You will need them, mine observer, yet for many another night. I leave none but you, my pupil, unto whom my plans are known. You 'have none but me,' you murmur, and I 'leave you quite alone'? Well then, kiss me, -- since my mother left her blessing on my brow, There has been a something wanting in my nature until now; I can dimly comprehend it, -- that I might have been more kind, Might have cherished you more wisely, as the one I leave behind. I 'have never failed in kindness'? No, we lived too high for strife,-- Calmest coldness was the error which has crept into our life; But your spirit is untainted, I can dedicate you still To the service of our science: you will further it? you will! There are certain calculations I should like to make with you, To be sure that your deductions will be logical and true; And remember, 'Patience, Patience,' is the watchword of a sage, Not to-day nor yet to-morrow can complete a perfect age. I have sown, like Tycho Brahe, that a greater man may reap; But if none should do my reaping, 'twill disturb me in my sleep So be careful and be faithful, though, like me, you leave no name; See, my boy, that nothing turn you to the mere pursuit of fame. I must say Good-bye, my pupil, for I cannot longer speak; Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision grows too weak: It is strange the pearly planet should look red as fiery Mars,-- God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst the stars.”

LoveWisdomSciencePoetryStarsBeautyKindnessPoemFameSightPatienceMathematicsHumbleMathAstronomyAweGoddessMarsStrifeWeepingCalculationsVenusTaintBraheTycho Brahe
Book:Twilight Hours: A Legacy of Verse
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“Joy is meant to be felt; its not meant to be detained. It is meant to be shared with others; not to be felt alone. When all the mouths smile out their teeth together, thats when the greatest happiness can be measured. You don't smile in order to see your friends cry and claim your joy is divine.”

LoveGivingTogetherJoyFeltPeaceEnjoyCommunityFreedomGreaterShareCryDivineVictoryUnitySmileFood For ThoughtIsraelmore AyivorHappyImpressionTeethOppressionAloneGreatRejoiceJoyfulFriendLovingCryingLaughSharingWeepingJoyousSmilingGod Is LoveMouthGreatestDetentionMeasureWeepClaimHappinesMeasuredDetainTruimphTruimphant
Author:Israelmore Ayivor
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“If the Pentateuch is inspired, the civilization of of our day is a mistake and crime. There should be no political liberty. Heresy should be trodden out beneath the bigot's brutal feet. Husbands should divorce their wives at will, and make the mothers of their children houseless and weeping wanderers. Polygamy ought to be practiced; women should become slaves; we should buy the sons and daughters of the heathen and make them bondmen and bondwomen forever. We should sell our own flesh and blood, and have the right to kill our slaves. Men and women should be stoned to death for laboring on the seventh day. 'Mediums,' such as have familiar spirits, should be burned with fire. Every vestige of mental liberty should be destroyed, and reason's holy torch extinguished in the martyr's blood.”

PoliticsMistakeLibertyChristianityForeverCrimeHolyCivilizationBibleMurderInspiredDivorceWanderBurningMothersBrutalMentalJudaismMartyrDeath PenaltyWeepingHeresyKillSabbathPolygamyHeathenSpiritsSlavesThe BibleHusbandsSellBigotPentateuchStoningTorth
Book:Some Mistakes of Moses
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“In Judaism, it is taught that there are three stages of grief to be endured. First there is weeping, for we all must weep for what we have lost. Second comes silence, for in the silence we understand solace, beauty, and comfort from something greater than ourselves. Third comes singing, for in singing we pour out our hearts and regain our voice.”

HeartVoiceLossSilenceComfortSingingJudaismWeepingStages Of Grief
Book:Sweet Judy Blue Eyes: My Life in Music
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“And now, for something completely the same: Wasted time and wasted breath, 's what I'll make, until my death. Helping people 'd be as good, but I wouldn't, if I could. For the few that help deserve, have no need, or not the nerve, help from strangers to accept, plus from mine a few have wept. Wept from joy, or from despair, or just from my vengeful stare. Ways I have, to look at stupid, make them see I am not Cupid. Make them see they are in error, for of truth I am a bearer. Most decide I'm just a bear, mauling at them, - like I care.”

PeopleDifferentHelpingTruthJoyDecisionMistakeStupidAcceptanceTearsStrangeBearsPoemDespairWasteDeserveErrorsStrangerCaringGoodMistakesDecisionsBreathingPoemsNervesVengeanceNothingWeepingRefusalDifferenceDeservingBreathOthersStrangersWasted TimeErrorCupidVengefulBearWastedDecidingNerveErroneousMauling
Book:Nothing is here...
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“When we say, 'it is well'; it is actually the hovering bird with no sense of direction on how to feed her chicks. The fear tearing the heart of the lion if his meal will ever appear. It is the flower at the mercy of the sleeping sun. The lonely mountain without a climber. Sometimes, it is the strength envisage even when the night falls. The tears of a helpless lost soul... it is saying to my soul "It is well".”

LoveCareEmpathyWeepingHold OnAll Is WellIt Is Well
Author:Victor Vote
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“Individual cultures and ideologies have their appropriate uses but none of them erase or replace the universal experiences, like love and weeping and laughter, common to all human beings.”

JoyHumanityHuman BeingsDiversityLaughterUniversalIdeologyHuman ConditionMulticulturalismWeepingRace RelationsJoy Of LifeDemographicsCommon GroundCoexistenceCultural DifferencesUniversalityCultural HeritageUniversal LoveAnti RacismInterfaith DialogueUniversal TruthsAntiracismFaith In HumanityFaith In LoveAgape LoveIdeologiesMulticulturalismoLove For HumanityNonviolent Conflict ResolutionCultural RelativismRacial IdentitySpiritual PhilosophyPeacismSocial PhilosophyWaging PeaceEnding WarCultural LiteracyIdeology Religion War CompromiseRacial DivisionCultural BoundariesCultural DemographicsPhilosophy For MillennialsSociological ImaginationAngel ArtAppropriate ApplicationEnding Violent Jihad
Book:Splendid Literarium: A Treasury of Stories, Aphorisms, Poems, and Essays
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“Happy be Thy world The world forgetting by the forgotten world; The failed attempts to remember the need to forget; Naturally, Eventually, Gradually, Usually, Finally ; Thy Allies will accompany you and end this Abruptly. For Thy, it may seem simple; Oh Shameless Crook! Thy have done it before and will do it again and when thy does it -- seems that only the innocence weeps.”

SeparationBroken HeartWeepingForgettingLove PoetryBreaking UpIndignationForgotten Memories
Author:Ranjani Ramachandran
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“I looked toward the small vent in the corner of the ceiling through which the music entered my cell. The source must have been far away, for it was just a faint stirring of notes, but when I closed my eyes, I could hear it more clearly. I could... see it. As if it were a grand painting, a living mural. There was beauty in the music- beauty and goodness. The music folded over itself like batter being poured from a bowl, one note atop another, melting together to form a whole, rising, filling me. It wasn't wild music, but there was a violence of passion in it, a swelling kind of joy and sorrow. I pulled my knees to my chest, needing to feel the sturdiness of my skin, even with the slime of the oily paint upon it. The music built a path, an ascent founded upon archways of colour. I followed it, walking out of that cell, through layers of earth, up and up- into fields of cornflowers, past a canopy of trees, and into the open expanse of sky. The pulse of the music was like hands that gently pushed me onward, pulling me higher, guiding me through the clouds. I'd never seen clouds like these- in their puffy sides, I could discern faces fair and sorrowful. They faded before I could view them too clearly, and I looked into the distance to where the music summoned me. It was either a sunset or a sunrise. The sun filled the clouds with magenta and purple, and its orange-gold rays blended with my path to form a band of shimmering metal. I wanted to fade into it, wanted the light of that sun to burn me away, to fill me with such joy that I would become a ray of sunshine myself. This wasn't music to dance to- it was music to worship, music to fill in the gaps of my soul, to bring me to a place where there was no pain. I didn't realise I was weeping until the wet warmth of a tear splashed upon my arm. But even then I clung to the music, gripping it like a ledge that kept me from falling. I hadn't realised how badly I didn't want to tumble into that deep dark- how much I wanted to stay here among the clouds and colour and light. I let the sounds ravage me, let them lay me flat and run over my body with their drums. Up and up, building to a palace in the sky, a hall of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely and kind and fantastic dwelled in peace. I wept- wept to be so close to that palace, wept for the need to be there. Everything I wanted was there- the one I loved was there- The music was Tamlin's fingers strumming my body; it was the gold of his eyes and the twist of his smile. It was that breathy chuckle, and the way he said those three words. It was this I was fighting for, this I had sworn to save. The music rose- louder, grander, faster, from wherever it was played- a wave that peaked, shattering the gloom of my cell. A shuddering sob broke from me at the sound faded into silence. I sat there trembling and weeping, too raw and exposed, left naked by the music and the colour in my mind.”

HealingBeautyMusicSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronWeepingA Court Of Thorns And RosesSoundsImaginging
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“My wife and I said good-bye the next morning in a little sheltered place among the lumber on the wharf; she was one of your women who never like to do their crying before folks. She climbed on the pile of lumber and sat down, a little flushed and quivery, to watch us off. I remember seeing her there with the baby till we were well down the channel. I remember noticing the bay as it grew cleaner, and thinking that I would break off swearing; and I remember cursing Bob Smart like a pirate within an hour. ("Kentucky's Ghost")”

WomenCryCryingSailingWeepingSailorCursingShipWeep
Book:Terror by Gaslight: More Victorian Tales of Terror
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“Mom looked like this might make her cry. And maybe she would. Mom could cry while doing just about anything. She was a champion weeper. I don't know who gives out awards for this kind of thing, but Mom could win awards. I have seen her weep while vacuuming, I have seen her sob while standing in front of the microwave waiting for peas to defrost I have seen her break down in the mailman's arms. She even cried once while eating ice cream...”

GriefChampionCryingWeepingSobbingChampionsChampion Weeper
Book:Notes on Your Sudden Disappearance
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“I weep over everything--the loss of the lap where I once lay, the death of the hand I was given, the arms to embrace me that I never found, the shoulder to lean on that I never had. And the day that breaks definitively, the grief that breaks in me like the naked truth of day, all that I dreamed or thought or forgot--all of this, like an amalgam of shadows, fictions and regrets, blends into the wake of the passing worlds and falls among the things of life like the skeleton of a bunch of grapes, filched by young boys and eaten on the street corner.”

GriefRegretMourningCryingWeeping
Book:The Book of Disquiet
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“...[T]wo of you can be no match for the three giants, I will find you, if I can, a third brother, who will take on himself the third share of the fight, and the preparation...I will show him to you in a glass, and, when he comes, you will know him at once. If he will share your endeavors, you must teach him all you know, and he will repay you well, in present song, and in future deeds.' She opened the door of a curious old cabinet that stood in the room. On the inside of this door was an oval convex mirror...we at length saw reflected the place where we stood, and the old dame seated in her chair...at the feet of the dame lay a young man...weeping. 'Surely this youth will not serve our ends,' said I, 'for he weeps.' The old woman smiled. 'Past tears are present strength,'said she.”

JoyStrengthTearsSorrowGiantsKnightsWeepingPhantastesStrength Through Pain
Book:Phantastes
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“Some people on bus seats shake at the shoulders, Stoned Elvises trying to dance after the gig. Some walk into the rain and look like they’re smiling, Running mascara writes sad bitter letters on their faces. Some drive their cars into lay-bys or park edges And cradle the steering-wheel looking like headless drivers. Some sink their open mouths into feather pillows And tremble on the bed like beached dolphins. Some people are bent as question marks when they weep And some are straight as exclamation marks. Some are soaking in emotional dew when they wake, Salt street maps etched into their faces. Some find rooms and fall to the floor as if praying to Allah. Noiseless Faces contorted in that silent scream that seems like laughter. Why is there not a tissue-giver? A man who looks for tears, Who makes the finest silk tissues and offers them for free? It seems to me that around each corner, beneath each stone, Are humans quietly looking for a place to cry on their own.”

PoetryPoemSolitudeCryingWeepingBeing AloneSobbing
Book:Gold from the Stone: New and Selected Poems
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