Crying Quotations Novels & Stories

I don’t know how much time had passed. I was still holding Dad’s drained body in a pool of rose-colored water. My eyes were swollen from crying. Two figures appear in front of me. They were speaking, but words, sounds, nothing was coming through. One of them knelt in front of me. He took my face in both his hands. His lips were moving but it seems like I am listening to them from underwater. Maybe I died too. Drowned in my tears and joined Dad and Mom. Can you die from crying too much? Dehydrate yourself to the point of no return? I think that’s what happened to me.

when people cry it doesn't mean they are weak, it only means that they had been strong for a very long time. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I-I failed you mom...I promised t-that I-I would take care of e-everyone but I failed! I'm sorry...I'm sorry" the tears started flowing on their own accord. I looked at the glaring moon " Are you happy?huh? Moon Goddess are you happy?!" As usual no reply. I couldn't help but chuckle... " Hey! Shut up in there!...crazy little mutt" a guard yelled and hit my cell door. It only made me laugh and cry harder.

“It's all my fault. Everything that happened to you is my fault; I should be the one dead. I'll never be happy, I promise to never be happy.” Tears kept streaming down my face, a quiet, soundless waterfall of sorrow. My body shook slightly, but my mouth was clamped shut, stifling any audible sobs. I cried silently, hiding my pain from the world, as if afraid to let others see the depth of my emotions. Each tear that fell was a testament to the weight I carried, a physical manifestation of the grief, hurt, or frustration that had become too much to bear. My eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, were the only giveaway, a window to the storm raging within.

Monica Samuel. It was like a punch in the gut: the tears rolled down my cheeks like a child keeping the gates closed as the water threatens to break open. I was holding on to Adrian's shoulder like a life preserver among those who believed that laughter drowned misery. The tears gushed across my cheeks like a river of mourning death for a loved one. Everything was awful, and the emotion weighed in the room like a tightly held heart gasping for breath under an avalanche. I wailed, and it was holler pitting pained voice, cry of a heart wounded. Clenching my fists, I choked on the name, "My mom is gone."

he shouted and stomped out of the house in anger. “What do I do Lord, help me. I feel so alone.” hugging herself she wept, for the scary present and the unknown tomorrow ****************** A few hours later ****************** “Mum, wake up. You will catch a cold.” Chris shook his mum slowly Disoriented, she looked at her son, “I must have slept off while cleaning.” Chris knew this wasn’t true because the glasses he broke in anger were still scattered on the floor and from the way his mum was curled up on the ground, he knew she had been crying. But he didn't say anything but helped her to the yellow faded couch in the living room.

Tears formed as cara broke down crying, you can't! You can't... she cried and hold her but in thin air ,she closed her eyes welcoming the darkness as cara weeped on her feet . She is no more ..." dead becaue you didn't try harder ... her darkest side whispered to her ." " I would have tried harder, this was all my fault "

' I looked down at my lap and that's when I realized I was crying. 'Hah. Why am I crying?' 'I shouldn't cry. He is just speaking the truth.' 'Fuck stop it, Jacqueline. Don't cry. Just don't.' My tears made me wonder whether he meant just a friend to me, or even more. It felt like thousands of borrowed emotions knocked the air out of me in the middle of the night in my darkened room. 'God! Why does it hurt so much?' 'Why am I feeling this? Why?' With a bitter smile, I looked at the sky from the window.

Nobody gave a fuck about me. "Just know that if you feel like crying, I'm not going to stop you." Giovanni sighed, adjusting my tie even though it was already perfectly knotted. "It's alright to cry. Even someone like me, a motherfucking heartless bastard, cried the day my mother died, despite her not being the best mother. Just don't hide your pain from me. I'll be here to support you through your grief, no matter what. Even if it's just by holding your hand while you cry."

Dad cried the other day, and this time, it was Uncle Lucas' turn to cry. Lucas batted his eyelashes slightly, and tears gathered on his eyelashes. "I'm just… Overjoyed." "Overjoyed?" Jacqueline asked, confused. "Yeah. I'm glad to see you and your Mom. I'm just too happy…" Lucas said and broke into choking sobs. Jacqueline became even more puzzled, unable to understand why Lucas was crying when he was happy.

Each sob was a cathartic release, a plea for understanding, and a lament for the life I once knew. The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with the weight of my sorrow. I yearned for a reprieve, a respite from the relentless storm that raged within me. But the tears persisted, cascading down my face like a ceaseless downpour, as if they held the weight of all the unanswered questions I carried.