Quotes about Tears

When she felt the tears coming up, building like a great hard pressure inside her, hot, so hot she thought they would burn, she swallowed them down deeper and deeper until they became a hard little stone in her chest.

She glared at Mama through her tears, wondering why she couldn't be thankful instead of resentful. Hildie knew what it was like to try to please Mama, never measuring up to expectations. For once, she didn't care. "Why do you have to be so mean to him?

A voice hissed: He sheds tears! It was taken around the ring Usal gives moisture to the dead! He felt fingers touch his damp cheek, heard the awed whispers.

Present tears water the gardens of future blessings.

Yet though these ways be lost, thou hast left one, Which is, immoderate grief that she is gone. But we may 'scape that sin, yet weep as much; Our tears are due because we are not such. Some tears, that knot of friends, her death must cost, Because the chain is broke, but no link lost.

God is the ultimate steward. He even turns our tears into the seeds of a hope filled future.

God has enough grace to solve every dilemma you face, wipe every tear you cry, and answer every question you ask.

Yet has not Man wept at the sounds? And are not his tears eloquent understanding?

tragic elements in present history are not as significant as the ironic ones. Pure tragedy elicits tears of admiration and pity for the hero who is willing to brave death or incur guilt for the sake of some great good. Irony however prompts some laughter and a nod of comprehension beyond the laughter; for irony involves comic absurdities which cease to be altogether absurd when fully understood.

Repentance and faith are distasteful to the unregenerate; they would sooner repeat a thousand formal prayers than shed a solitary tear of true repentance.

I have slept Weeping, and weeping I have waked; my tears Have flow'd as if my body were not such As others are, and I could never die.

We're the only ones who know what death is all about. And the earth itself. Just let somebody try to muscle in on our work, and the earth will swallow him up like that, believe me. The earth is kind to us gravediggers. It doesn't complain, it lets itself be worked over. It accepts what we give it. It endures the assassin's arrogance and the victim's tears. It's open to everybody at any moment; the great conqueror is the earth, for it is the earth that raises the dead and feeds the living.