Don't cry over someone who wouldn't cry over you.
sadness crying tears cry heartache
Some people, they can't just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me.. I don't know. I didn't want to fix it, to forget. It wasn't something that was broken. It's just.. Something that happened. And like that hole, I'm just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time.
life people time mourning day cry broken forget remembering working finding
Much of my life had been devoted to trying not to cry in front of people who loved me, so I knew what Augustus was doing. You clench your teeth. You look up. You tell yourself that if they see you cry, it will hurt them, and you will be nothing but a Sadness in their lives, and you must not become a mere sadness, so you will not cry, and you say all of this to yourself while looking up at the ceiling, and then you swallow even though your throat does not want to close and you look at the person who loves you and smile.
life people sadness smile hurt person lives cry close teeth
Laugh, even when you feel too sick or too worn out or tired. Smile, even when you're trying not to cry and the tears are blurring your vision. Sing, even when people stare at you and tell you your voice is crappy. Trust, even when your heart begs you not to. Twirl, even when your mind makes no sense of what you see. Frolick, even when you are made fun of. Kiss, even when others are watching. Sleep, even when you're afraid of what the dreams might bring. Run, even when it feels like you can't run any more. And, always, remember, even when the memories pinch your heart. Because the pain of all your experience is what makes you the person you are now. And without your experience---you are an empty page, a blank notebook, a missing lyric. What makes you brave is your willingness to live through your terrible life and hold your head up high the next day. So don't live life in fear. Because you are stronger now, after all the crap has happened, than you ever were back before it started.
vision trust sleep dreams pain life people mind live fun voice sense experience fear heart tears smile memories person remember feel day cry laugh brave missing sick kiss sing tired empty run afraid head made terrible
If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.
culture writing write cry sing breathe
The West's post-Holocaust pledge that genocide would never again be tolerated proved to be hollow, and for all the fine sentiments inspired by the memory of Auschwitz, the problem remains that denouncing evil is a far cry from doing good.
action memory rwanda problem evil good holocaust tolerance apathy genocide cry talk sentiment hitler indifference west sudan
Maybe every creation's a cry for help...
art creation cry
It is terrible and unbearable to an artist,' he said, 'to be encouraged to do, to be applauded for doing his second best.' He said: 'Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me leave to do my utmost!
art world heart artist artists cry leave give terrible
A Gift for YouI send you.. The gift of a letter from your wise self. This is the part of you that sees you with benevolent, loving eyes. You find this letter in a thick envelope with your name on it, and the word YES written boldly above your name. My Dear,I am writing this to remind you of your 'essence beauty.' This is the part of you that has nothing to do with age, occupation, weight, history, or pain. This is the soft, untouched, indelible you. You can love yourself in this moment, no matter what you have, or haven't done or been. See past any masks, devices, or inventions that obscure your essence. Remember your true purpose, WHICH is only Love. If you cannot see or feel love, lie down now and cry; it will cleanse your vision and free your heart.I love you; I am you.
vision purpose pain writing age beauty history art moment creativity past true procrastination heart dreaming loving gift essence wise acceptance remember feel word cry eyes find free lie matter letter weight written masks part inventions love
One need not believe in Pallas Athena, the virgin goddess, to be overwhelmed by the Parthenon. Similarly, a man who rejects all dogmas, all theologies and all religious formulations of beliefs may still find Genesis the sublime book par excellence. Experiences and aspirations of which intimations may be found in Plato, Nietzsche, and Spinoza have found their most evocative expression in some sacred books. Since the Renaissance, Shakespeare, Rembrandt, Mozart, and a host of others have shown that this religious dimension can be experienced and communicated apart from any religious context. But that is no reason for closing my heart to Job's cry, or to Jeremiah's, or to the Second Isaiah. I do not read them as mere literature; rather, I read Sophocles and Shakespeare with all my being, too.
inspiration literature man religion shakespeare excellence religious heart reason aspirations expression book goddess experiences cry find beliefs plato found read sacred nietzsche genesis renaissance sublime books atheism
There is much you can learn from books and scrolls. These books are my friends, my companions. They make me laugh and cry and find meaning in life.
reading life meaning friends learn cry find laugh eragon books
Suddenly the full long wail of a ship's horn surged through the open window and flooded the dim room - a cry of boundless, dark, demanding grief; pitch-black and glabrous as a whale's back and burdened with all the passions of the tides, the memory of voyages beyond counting, the joys, the humiliations: the sea was screaming. Full of the glitter and the frenzy of night, the horn thundered in, conveying from the distant offing, from the dead center of the sea, a thirst for the dark nectar in the little room.
memory poetic dark night cry grief passions dead open window sea thirst books
Books are like people: fascinating, inspiring, thought-provoking, some laugh, some meditate, others ache with old age, but still have wisdom: some are disease-ridden, some deceitful; but others are a delight to behold, and many travel to foreign lands; some cry, some teach, others are lots of fun, they are excellent companions and all have individuality - Books are friends. What person has too many friends?
travel wisdom age people fun individuality thought-provoking inspiring friends person cry delight laugh teach books
In a book, even the real bastards can't hurt you. And you can never loose a friend you make in a book. When you get to a sad part, no one's there to see you cry. Or wonder why you don't cry when you should.
funny humor life people real characters friends book hurt sad cry friend part books
Unafraid, Unashamed, Lord we know who we are, We are the people and we won't be silent. Unified hear us cry at the top of our lungs, You are our God and we will not be shaken!
people cry silent hear lord god christian
I imagined the sound of whips on black backs and the roar of the overseer over the cry of mothers being separated from their babies. I pulled on all the strength I had not to shot out every valuable leaded pane of glass in that stinking house.
strength sound fiction mothers glass black cry babies house christian shot
And so a pattern develops: wake, work cry. Sleep. I can't even escape him in my dreams. Gray burning eyes, his lost look, his hair burnished and bright and bright all haunt me. And the music.. So much music-I cannot bear to hear any music. I am careful to avoid it at all costs. Even the jingles in commercials make me shudder.
sleep dreams work music bright lost cry eyes escape hair burning hear fifty-shades-of-grey christian commercials wake bear
I remember I laughed so hard I cried. But my response was half appropriate, because I was at a funeral.?
death crying remember laughter cry laugh hard funeral
Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am the starshine of the night. I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room. I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I do not die.
sleep death inspirational night lovely cry quiet flowers grave birds stand weep die sing bloom thing epitaph
Grief reunites you with what you've lost. It's a merging; you go with the loved thing or person that's going away. You follow it a far as you can go. But finally, the grief goes away and you phase back into the world. Without him. And you can accept that. What the hell choice is there? You cry, you continue to cry, because you don't ever completely come back from where you went with him -- a fragment broken off your pulsing, pumping heart is there still. A cut that never heals. And if, when it happens to you over and over again in life, too much of your heart does finally go away, then you can't feel grief any more. And then you yourself are ready to die. You'll walk up the inclined ladder and someone else will remain behind grieving for you.
choice life death world heart grieving lost person feel cry hell grief broken die walk accept ready thing
When you came you cried and everybody smiled with joy; when you go smile and let the world cry for you.
birth death inspirational world smile joy cry
I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more..
life age people death inspirational praise cry leave stop die unhappy love
We cry coming into the world, as everyone around us laughs with joy. And we laugh with joy leaving this world, when everyone around us cries.
birth life death leaving world joy cry laugh
I carried [Rudy] softly through the broken street.. With him I tried a little harder [at comforting]. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It's his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.
death time moment soul heart lying book water cry broken neighbor taste kiss calling boy chasing bed imaginary
I watch my loved ones weep with sorrow, death's silent torment of no tomorrow. I feel their hearts breaking, I sense their despair, United in misery, the grief that they share. How do I show that, I am not gone.. But the essence of life's everlasting songWhy do they wee? Why do they cry?I'm alive in the wind and I am soaring high. I am sparkling light dancing on streams, a moment of warmth in the fays of sunbeams. The coolness of rain as it falls on your face, the whisper of leaves as wind rushes with haste. Eternal Song, a requiem by Avian of Celieriafrom Crown of Crystal Flame by C.L. Wilson
haste death light moment hearts sense sorrow dancing song essence wind sad despair feel tomorrow cry grief share rain eternal face weep alive misery silent warmth torment crown breaking whisper
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