Quotes
Quotes about Tears
We have nothing to offer you.. say the cows of their gravy.. but our blood, sweat, and tears. (cows' blood.. contains sweat or uric acid.. pre urine.. trioxypurine correlated to heart problems and to arthritis It contains adrenal protein enzyme fright hormones as terrorized animals hear the screams of their fellows being butchered.. these protein enzymes chains have some links broken http://www.pcrm.org by cooking but many remain intact so that eating meat is the biochemistry of eating anger and violence).
Where is home? Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace. -Vernon Baker.
I always try to balance the light with the heavy - a few tears of human spirit in with the sequins and the fringes.
Old homes! old hearts! Upon my soul forever Their peace and gladness lie like tears and laughter.
She who from April dates her years, Diamonds should wear, lest bitter tears For vain repentance flow; this stone, Emblem of innocence is known.
Have you had a kindness shown? Pass it on; 'Twas not given for thee alone, Pass it on; Let it travel down the years, Let it wipe another's tears, 'Till in Heaven the deed appears-- Pass it on.
Blush, happy maiden, when you feel The lips which press love's glowing seal; But as the slow years darklier roll, Grown wiser, the experienced soul Will own as dearer far than they The lips which kiss the tears away.
He has strangled His language in his tears.
I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat.
If you cry because the sun has gone out of your life, your tears will prevent you from seeing the stars. -Unknown.
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!A farewell, and then forever!Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,While the star of hope she leaves him?Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me,Dark despair around benights me. - Ae Fond Kiss.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, -I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
In secret we met - In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears.
Little drops of rain Whisper of the pain Tears of love Lost in the days gone by.
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee,--are all with thee!
She cried, and the judge wiped her tears with my checkbook.
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears.
Tears are the summer showers to the soul.
Thou water turn'st to wine, fair friend of life; Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of Thy reign, Distils from thence the tears of wrath and strife, And so turns wine to water back again. - Richard Crashaw,
The child of misery, baptized in tears!
That it should come to this, But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two, So excellent a king, that was to this Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth, Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on, and yet within a month-- Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman-- A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father's body Like Niobe, all tears, why she, even she-- O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason Would have mourned longer--married with my uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules.
The pretty and sweet manner of it forced Those waters from me which I would have stopped; But I had not so much of man in me, And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.
Music is the art which is most nigh to tears and memory.
Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation's tears in shoulder blades.
