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...
To cry was to release all sorts of ugly little pressures and tensions. Like waking out of a long, dark dream to a sun-filled day.
To my embarrassment, I was crying again. Real girl tears for the second time, these ones born out of frustration. That didn't happen to me very often, but I hated it when it did. It was faulty wiring...
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,And therefore I forbid my tears.
We need never be ashamed of our tears.
We sat under the mango tree and I was holding his hand when he began to cry. Drops fell on my hand like the water from the dripstone in the filter in our yard. Then I began to cry too and when I felt...
When a stargirl cries, she sheds not tears but light.
When the heart is dry the eye is dry.
When you see the ugliness behind the tears of another person, it makes you take a closer look at your own.
Will you not weep?I do not have the time for tears.
You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sin, you know, and cry tears doing it that are genuine as any.
Your tears do not wash away your sorrows. They feed someone else's joy. And that is why you must learn to swallow your own tears.
[B]eauty is one of the things that make you cry and so maybe beauty is always tied up in tears.
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