Tears Quotes

The liquid drops of tears that you have shedShall come again, transform'd to orient pearl,Advantaging their loan with interestOf ten times double gain of happiness.

I have a kind soul that would give you thanks. And knows not how to do it but with tears.

The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.

leave me in peace, let me sleep one night at least without my pillow being wet with tears, my eyes burning and my head throbbing

For a year after that was done to me I wept every day at the same hour and for the same space of time. That is not such a tragic thing as possibly it sounds to you. To those who are in prison tears are a part of every day's experience. A day in prison on which one does not weep is a day on which one's heart is hard, not a day on which one's heart is happy.

I wait for the morning of my tears

We need never be ashamed of our tears.

Tears come from the heart and not from the brain

Music is the art which is most nigh to tears and memories.

I would not exchange the laughter of my heart for the fortunes of the multitudes; nor would I be content with converting my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter. Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me the secret of life and its mystery, Laughter that brings me closer to my fellow men; Tears with which I join the broken-hearted, Laugher that symbolizes joy over my very existence.

Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.

Were floods of tears to be unloosed In tribute to my grief, The doves of Noah ne'er had roost Nor found an olive-leaf.

Here my tears are falling, Nastenka. Let them flow, let them flow - they don't hurt anybody. They will dry Nastenka.

For frequent tears have run; The colours from my life.

Tears are the silent language of grief.

These tears do me good, they have watered the parched place; perhaps my heart will grow again there!

Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.

Women's weapons, water-drops.

Will that light come again, As now these tears come...falling hot and real!

Lords, knights and gentlemen, what I should sayMy tears gainsay; for every word I speak,Ye see I drink the water of my eye.