Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
I do not weep: I loathe tears, for they are a sign of slavery.
That very law which moulds a tear And bids it trickle from its source,- That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.
Forgive me, Spirit of my spirit, for this, that I have found it easier to read the mystery told in tears and understood Thee better in sorrow than in joy.
When I step foot to my locker and change shoes for training, its like turning on a switch. I become a creature. Not a human. I look to tear apart anyone and everyone in my way to hugeness and I don't care how I do it. I can feel my heart start jumping and my body start saying "beat me into the ground like a red-headed step child. I want punishment" I WANT TO BE A FREAK, A FREAK I TELL YOU!!
When it seems like the night will last forever, And there's nothing left to do but count the years, When the strings of my harp to sever, And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears... I will walk alone by the black muddy river, And dream me a dream of my own, I will walk alone by the black muddy river, And sing me a song of my own.
Tears and fears and feeling proud To say I love you, right out loud Dreams and schemes and circus crowds I've looked at life that way. But now old friends are acting strange They shake their heads, they say I've changed Something's lost, but something's gained In living every day I've looked at life from both sides now From win and lose, and still somehow It's life's illusions I recall I really don't know life at all
I hear pounding feet in the streets below And the women crying and the children know That there's something wrong And it's hard to believe that love will prevail Oh it won't rain all the time The sky won't fall forever And though the night seems long Your tears won't fall forever
Those most moved to tears by every word of a preacher are generally weak and a rascal when the feelings evaporate.
Babies are unreasonable; they expect far too much of existence. Each new generation that comes takes one look at the world, thinks wildly, "Is this all they've done to it?" and bursts into tears.
We like little children, because they tear out as soon as they get what they want.
A nation that does not support and encourage its theater is - if not dead - dying; just as a theater that does not capture with laughter and tears the social and historical pulse, the drama of its people, the genuine color of the spiritual and natural landscape, has no right to call itself theater; but only a place for amusement.
There's a tear in his eye that refuses to fall. If it would land on me, that would say it all.
Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall. And get a massage - you look really stressed
Laugh often friends tho' passing years bring, sometimes, smiles and, sometimes, tears, for mirth forever warms and cheers. Laugh often!
The nation wept tears of remorse for their leader: the tear-gas accomplished what was expected.
I hate the moment when suddenly my anger turns into tears
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. [So when you are crying remember also to anticipate and look for the rainbow.]
Don't cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won't let you see the stars. [When you lose one blessing, anticipate, look and work for a silver lining and when you find it, you will have a new grateful perspective.]
Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.
Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May New blooming blossoms neath the sun are born, And all poor April's charms are swept away.
Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
While I have very little to say in favor of sex (it's vastly overrated, it's frequently unnecessary, and it's messy), it is greatly to be preferred to the interminable torments of romantic agony through which two people tear one another limb from limb while professing altruistic devotion.
Ungrateful are those on this earthly road, Who do complain that life is made of tears, That happiness on earth one cannot find, That we are made of sorrows and of fears.
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