Gray.The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.Gray...
And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all men were hushed. And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.
If I were standing right beside her, I probably would have heard her heart breaking. It would have sounded like the cracking of a wooden bat connecting with a baseball. No, that was too clean of a break. It would have sounded like rain from a powerful thunderstorm pounding on a tin roof. Millions of drops relentlessly pounding away on the surface until it shattered into billions of tiny pieces. Pieces Emily couldn’t put back together by herself.
Ekse let them know that I say No to Xenophobia.Everything and anything that u do.u do it for yourself not anyone else. Even if your doing it 2 some else.U might think u are fighting the enemy, only 2 find the enemy your hurting is u.For every bad move, decision or an act there are consequences to suffer or pay. Stop the violent and stop xenophobia. One love <3."Even thou we get same judgement as a group or race but individual we suffer different pain
I was not looking for HIM, he was just always there, the little BOY! I have not seen HIM, because I did not want to see, but HE was standing next to my bed every night, the little BOY! I have not heard their cry because I have forbidden HIM there to cry. But one day, when I woke up, did I knew seen, so sad and lonely! I wanted to tell HIM that it's all going to be good. But I could not because I knew that it is not so! And we both cried, I and the LITTLE BOY IN ME!
Crying is NOT a weakness. Cry as much as you have to. Don’t be afraid or ashamed to let your tears flow. Crying is a natural part of life. We all have feelings, and sometimes crying is all that we can do. Crying can help relieve the pain, hurt, disappointments, and all of the other things that life can throw our way. Know that it’s okay, and know that you’re going to be okay as well. Wishing You: Peace of mind, Comfort, Happiness, Joy within and LOVE.
Just like that. Gone forever. They will not grow old together. They will never live on a beach by the sea, their hair turned white, dancing in a living room to Billie Holiday or Nat Cole. They will not enter a New York club at midnight and show the poor hip-hop fools how to dance. They will not chuckle together over the endless folly of the world, its vanities and stupid ambitions. They will not hug each other in any chilly New York dawn. Oh, Mary Lou.My baby.My love.
Nusu dakika baada ya kuondoa gari, Murphy aliona kiwiliwili cha mtu kikimwendea mbio kutokea katika nyumba ya magaidi! Hapohapo alisimamisha gari na kuacha taa zikiwaka, halafu akashika bunduki na kushuka – akiwa ameangalia mbele kwa tahadhari kubwa. Alikuwa mwanamke. Debbie! Murphy alipojua ni Debbie, alitupa bunduki na kuchomoka mbio mpaka wakakutana na kukumbatiana kwa nguvu! Murphy alimbeba Debbie na kumbusu kila sehemu, halafu akamfuta machozi na kumbembeleza.
So you shun me? - you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate: I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose, then, that your heart has been weeping blood?
But pearls are for tears, the old legend says," Gilbert had objected."I'm not afraid of that. And tears can be happy as well as sad. My very happiest moments have been when I had tears in my eyes—when Marilla told me I might stay at Green Gables—when Matthew gave me the first pretty dress I ever had—when I heard that you were going to recover from the fever. So give me pearls for our troth ring, Gilbert, and I'll willingly accept the sorrow of life with its joy." -Anne
These tears are proof that there is love in the world. Tears are only bitter when we cry selfishly for ourselves. When we deny and forget the sweet love that tears are made of. When we let sorrow turn to anger. When people cry for each other, it is a good thing. Always remember that you are a human being, connected to all other human beings. When you cry for others you are opening your heart to God, who must see what we do and weep for us, too, for the suffering we cause to one another and to ourselves.
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.
It is a grave injustice to a child or adult to insist that they stop crying. One can comfort a person who is crying which enables him to relax and makes further crying unnecessary; but to humiliate a crying child is to increase his pain, and augment his rigidity. We stop other people from crying because we cannot stand the sounds and movements of their bodies. It threatens our own rigidity. It induces similar feelings in ourselves which we dare not express and it evokes a resonance in our own bodies which we resist.
When the rain is on my lipsAnd I shiver from the coldThinking about lifeIts ups and downsAnd being a melancholicI take a noteOf the nature's crying its tearsMaking the day seem gray And unexcited But how much life the rain bringsTo what is hidden beneath the surfaceSo whenever I cry And the cold of people's wordsOr actionsCausing me shiverI vision myself standing in the rainBringing my roots to lifeI am not afraid anymoreOf getting soaking wetI stand my ground! But please natureDon't let me drown, make me beautiful!
You're letting me go?"He curled his upper lip, his expression painfully bitter as he took a step back from me. "Apparently... I never had a hold of you." He turned sharply, and without another word striding down the street into the dark.Braden never once looked back and that was a good thing.If he had, he'd have seen Jocelyn Butler crying real tears for the first time in a long time, and he would have known that I'd lied. And lied big. For anyone who saw me, knew they were watching a heart in the process of it breaking.
