I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.
change people stories crying kissing end eyes mouth impatience missing run big ears
Sometimes crying or laughing are the only options left, and laughing feels better right now.
crying laughing laughter left options
Augustus Waters was a self-aggrandizing bastard. But we forgive him. We forgive him not because he had a heart as figuratively good as his literal one sucked, or because he knew more about how to hold a cigarette than any nonsmoker in history, or because he got eighteen years when he should've gotten more.''Seventeen,' Gus corrected.'I'm assuming you've got some time, you interupting bastard.'I'm telling you,' Isaac continued, 'Augustus Waters talked so much that he'd interupt you at his own funeral. And he was pretentious: Sweet Jesus Christ, that kid never took a piss without pondering the abundant metaphorical resonances of human waste production. And he was vain: I do not believe I have ever met a more physically attractive person who was more acutely aware of his own physical attractiveness.'But I will say this: When the scientists of the future show up at my house with robot eyes and they tell me to try them on, I will tell the scientists to screw off, because I do not want to see a world without him.'I was kind of crying by then.
time history human future christ world kind heart crying forgive good sweet jesus person vain eyes waste metaphorical scientists physical john-green the-fault-in-our-stars robot house funeral tfios attractive aware
.. You know that a good, long session of weeping can often make you feel better, even if your circumstances have not changed one bit.
circumstances crying good feel weeping
Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.
decisions crying cry stop books
Don't cry over someone who wouldn't cry over you.
sadness crying tears cry heartache
Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.
women funny beauty shopping crying pretty humour
The wounded were crying, and the rest were dying. Jack stood alone in a hallway of mangled men, who had been trained for this
men action rest crying guns fighting monsters dying werewolves jack
I am not a machine. For what can a machine know of the smell of wet grass in the morning, or the sound of a crying baby? I am the feeling of the warm sun against my skin; I am the sensation of a cool wave breaking over me. I am the places I have never seen, yet imagine when my eyes are closed. I am the taste of another's breath, the color of her hair. You mock me for the shortness of my lifespan, but it is this very fear of dying that breathes life into me. I am the thinker who thinks of thoughts. I am curiosity, I am reason, I am love, and I am hatred. I am indifference. I am the son of a father, who in turn was a father's son. I am the reason my mother laughed and the reason my mother cried. I am wonder and I am wondrous. Yes, the world may push your buttons as it passes through your circuitry. But the world does not pass through me. It lingers. I am in it and it is is me. I am the means by which the universe has come to know itself. I am the thing no machine can ever make. I am meaning.
places sound life art meaning world fear reason crying color curiosity universe feeling thoughts breath mother morning sun imagine son eyes hatred machine taste cool father hair smell skin grass genesis dying indifference baby love breaking thing wave wet
How do you even know I'm someone you'll want to remember? We've only seen each other once before.'(Amber)'Have you ever looked at a painting and known you had something in common with it? Have you ever seen something so beautiful you feel like crying? When I see you, I feel that way. I feel like the deepest part of me understands something vital about you.'(Virgil Daly)
inspiration writing art crying beautiful quote remember feel christina-westover common painting part
It would be inappropiate, undignified, at 38, to conduct friendships or love affairs with the ardour or intensity of a 22 year old. Falling in love like that? Writing poetry? Crying at pop songs? Dragging people into photobooths? Taking a whole day to make a compilation tape? Asking people if they wanted to share your bed, just for company? If you quoted Bob Dylan or TS Eliot or, god forbid, Brecht at someone these days they would smile politely and step quietly backwards, and who would blame them? Ridiculous, at 38, to expect a song or book or film to change your life.
poetry life writing change people music days growing-up crying songs smile song book day friendships blame share company affairs falling film ridiculous intensity pop bed god love books conduct
For him that stealeth, or borroweth and returneth not, this book from its owner, Let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying out for mercy, Let there be no surcease to his agony till he sink in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw his entrails in token of the worm that dieth not. When at last he goeth to his final punishment, Let the flames of Hell consume him forever.[attributed to the Monastery of San Pedro in Barcelona, Spain]
pain curses change libraries crying book agony hell mercy forever punishment hand books
Caine usually woke from the recurring dream mid-air, having yet to be dashed upon the rocks, whimpering and panting like a child crying for his mother. Now he lifted his eyes to a dark, empty room in Jizan and the unusual, lingering scent of roses, and wept in his hands for his Father.
crying dream romance dark mother child eyes hands scent father empty unusual roses christian
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
Two turtle doves will show theeWhere my cold ashes lieAnd sadly murmuring tell theeHow in tears I did die
death crying tears loneliness sad birds die cold whisper
And thus we all are nighingThe truth we fear to know: Death will end our cryingFor friends that come and go.
poetry truth death fear crying friends loss end grief
Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,I had not thought death had undone so many. Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, To where St Mary Woolnoth kept the hours With a dead sound on the final stock of nine. There I saw one I knew, and stopped him crying: 'Stetson!You, who were with me in the ships at Mylae!That corpse you planted last year in your garden, Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men, Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!You! Hypocrite lecteur!-mon semblable,-mon frere!
sound man men death war city humanity thought fear crying dawn king mary eyes friend dog winter ships dead corpse london garden bloom crowd bed hypocrite bridge short william
I've grieved enough for his life cut short and for mine for running on for so long with so little in it. It's weakness now, but I suppose I am crying out of a general sense of loss. Maybe I am mourning for the human condition.
weakness life death human sense crying running loss mourning grief short
Weeping is not the same thing as crying, It takes your whole body to weep, and when itt have any bones left to hold you up.
death body crying lost tragedy weeping bones weep left thing
Adam is crying and somewhere inside of me I am crying, too, because I'm feeling things at last. I'm feeling not just the physical pain, but all that I have lost, and it is profound and catastrophic and will leave a crater in me that nothing will ever fill.
pain death crying feeling loss profound lost adam leave things inside physical
And if one day,' she said, really crying now, 'you look back and you feel bad for being so angry, if you feel bad for being so angry at me that you couldn't even speak to me, then you have to know, Conor, you have to that is was okay. It was okay. That I knew. I know, okay? I know everything you need to tell me without you having to say it out loud.
anger death crying angry feel bad day grief speak
The Thought of Death. It gives me a melancholy happiness to live in the midst of this confusion of streets, of necessities, of voices: how much enjoyment, impatience and desire, how much thirsty life and drunkenness of life comes to light here every moment! And yet it will soon be so still for all these shouting, lively, life- loving people! How everyone's shadow, his gloomy travelling companion stands behind him! It is always as in the last moment before the departure of an emigrant- ship: people have more than ever to say to one another, the hour presses, the ocean with its lonely silence waits impatiently behind all the noise-so greedy, so certain of its prey! And all, all, suppose that the past has been nothing, or a small matter, that the near future is everything: hence this haste, this crying, this self-deafening and self-overreaching! Everyone wants to be foremost in this future-and yet death and the stillness of death are the only things certain and common to all in this future! How strange that this sole thing that is certain and common to all, exercises almost no influence on men, and that they are the furthest from regarding themselves as the brotherhood of death! It makes me happy to see that men do not want to think at all of the idea of death! I would fain do something to make the idea of life to us to be more than friends in the sense of that sublime possibility. And so we will believe in our even a hundred times more worthy of their attention.
silence brotherhood life idea haste people men death happiness light live moment future past sense stillness confusion thought crying happy friends loving desire attention ship possibility influence small shadow worthy enjoyment times melancholy impatience things matter lonely strange common ocean drunkenness voices streets travelling sublime thing companion
I believe in evolution in the sense that a short-tempered man is the successor of a crybaby.
funny humor belief temper evolution science temperament crying metaphor comparison clever observation patience process wit witty baby genetics
God gave us crying so other folks could see when we needed help, and help us.
help crying cry god
Listen to God with a broken heart. He is not only the doctor who mends it, but also the father who wipes away the tears.
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