Quotes
Quotes about Tears
Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears; And now, to add more measure to your woes, I come to tell you things sith then befallen.
Is it the shrewd October wind Brings the tears into her eyes? Does it blow so strong that she must fetch Her breath in sudden sighs?
And alien tears will fill for him Pity's long-broken urn, For his mourners will be outcast men, And outcasts always mourn.
Let's not unman each other--part at once; All farewells should be sudden, when forever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears.
We two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years.
There are times when God asks nothing of His children except silence, patience and tears.
Remorse is as the heart in which it grows; If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, It is the poison tree, that pierced to the inmost, Weeps only tears of poison.
That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath most cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby House; Where--after I have solemnly interred At Chertsey monast'ry with noble king-- And wet his grave with my repentant tears-- I will with all expedient duty see you.
Let no one honour me with tears, or bury me with lamentation. Why? Because I fly hither and thither, living in the mouths of me. [Lat., Nemo me lacrymis decoret, nec funera fletu. Faxit cur? Volito vivu' per ora virum.]
No more tears now; I will think about revenge.
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with those. The bursting tears my heart declare; Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.
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.
In tears I tossed my coin from Trevi's edge. A coin unsordid as a bond of love-- And, with the instinct of the homing dove, I gave to Rome my rendezvous and pledge. And when imperious Death Has quenched my flame of breath, Oh, let me join the faithful shades that throng that fount above.
I give this heavy weight from off my head And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand, The pride of kingly sway from out my heart. With mine own tears I wash away my balm, With mine own hands I give away my crown, With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, With mine own breath release all duty's rites.
Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.
There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time.
The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.
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.
Or did the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.
Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.
You have seen Sunshine and rain at once--her smiles and tears Were like, a better way: those happy smilets That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence As pearls from diamonds dropped.
'Tis easy enough to be pleasant, When life flows along like a song; But the man worth while is the one who will smile When everything does dead wrong; For the test of the heart is trouble, And it always comes with the years, But the smile that is worth the praise of earth Is the smile that comes through tears. . . . . But the virtue that conquers passion, And the sorrow that hides in a smile-- It is these that are worth the homage of earth, For we find them but once in a while.
"I cannot bear it!" said the pewter soldier. "I have shed pewter tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let me go to the wars and lose arms and legs! It would at least be a change. I cannot bear it longer! Now, I know what it is to have a visit from one's old thoughts, with what they may bring with them! I have had a visit from mine, and you may be sure it is no pleasant thing in the end; I was at last about to jump down from the drawers."
You led our sons across the haunted flood, Into the Canaan of their high desire-- No milk and honey there, but tears and blood Flowed where the hosts of evil trod in fire, And left a worse than desert where they passed.
Sorrow preys upon Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it From its sad visions of the other world Than calling it at moments back to this. The busy have no time for tears.
