Quotes About Silent Tears Novels & Stories

I had drunken with Leo until he thought that sleeping was better than getting drunk with me. He was an emotional mess, not as much as me but he came pretty fucking close. He did a lot of what I like to call 'silent crying.' which is when tears are running free down your face but you aren't making any sound. Something that while sitting on the curb at some time in the night or early morning, I was currently doing. My drunken state and silent crying had allowed me to do some thinking, to get some emotions out. Something I hadn't been able to do in a very long time.

They were from the same school but he didn’t look like someone she had seen before. “Don’t you think so?” He continued, having Tina’s full attention now. He could tell from the latter’s eyes the amount of pain she was harboring deep down. “You see, “ He paused for a second. “It takes sadness to know what happiness is. Noise to appreciate silence and absence to value presence.” He went on hoping to send some sense of encouragement to her but the latter just stared intently at him– not getting what he was grumbling or better still not interested.

She punched the door with all her might, Lane was so worried; her voice cracked. The crying noises which were filled the restroom immediately vanished as she arrived, my palm wrapped around my mouth to stop me from crying, but then I still cried in silence. Crying in silence is hurt a million more times than crying out loud. How come? Yeah, just like the soul that is trapped in the body and can’t go, that’s how crying in silence feels. I wiped my tears in sobbing, making sure there were no tears left, at the time Lane still pounding on the restroom door, and when I opened the door, she ran and comforted me.

The gentle patter of rain against the windowpane provides a soothing backdrop, a natural symphony that matches the rhythm of my troubled thoughts. In this moment of solitude, I let the tears flow freely, mingling with the rain that caresses my face. Each droplet seems to carry away a fraction of my anguish as if nature itself is trying to wash away my pain. The rain becomes my silent confidante, listening to the whispers of my sorrow and offering solace in its gentle embrace.

I mutter to myself. I remember calling Zara late at night, whispering like someone was monitoring my thoughts. “This man will kill me with silence.” She’d laughed and said, “Relax. Some men are just emotionally constipated.” At the time, it wasn’t funny. I cried more than I like to admit. Quiet tears. Controlled ones. The kind you wipe quickly so nobody notices not even yourself. And yet… I straighten slowly. If I hadn’t met him, I wouldn’t have had this opportunity.

I immediately rushed to wipe it off but she shook her head. "Contrary to what everyone says, tears are not a sign of weakness. Instead it only means that you feel things deeply. Your life has not been the most perfect the past few years and only the blind would pretend like it didn't hurt him." Her words continued to stretch into my heart, twisting and turning, almost as though I was before a surgeon who was making a new heart.

I am taller than him, he tiptoed and kissed me on the lips, his eyes were half-closed while mine are wide open, I saw his tears flow down from his cheek, I used my thumb to wipe it. "I cried so many times already, if I can calculate the tears I have shed, I think I might be able to full a pool. But right now, I'm am crying because of happiness, now I believe that some tears are sad and some are wonderful, these tears are the proof that people cry when they are happy. Tears of happiness," He continued. I just smiled. He is an amazing person. " I promise that from now on, you will only cry when you are happy, I will never let you cry due to sadness. This eyes doesn't deserve to shed sad tears,

I shook my head and bit my lower lip because he still won’t listen; he hasn’t changed, and he doesn’t listen to anyone. I gave him a blank stare. “You and Sophia are very similar in that you don’t listen to anyone but yourself,” I said. He came to a halt and looked at me. “You’re both selfish; you have nothing else on your mind but yourself,” I said, wiping my tears. “At least for now, Dominic, listen to me. Let’s not pretend that everything is fine because regardless of what happens, we can never go back to how we were before,” I said. I bit my lower lip and held my breath. Maybe what I said convinced him to leave.

“Just say something. Please!” Silence. Deafening and cold silence wraps around me as I break down into tears. Strong yet gentle arms wrap around me, holding me as I cry. She whispers, telling me it’s going to be okay, that I shouldn’t blame myself, but I can’t stop. The tears fall as if they’ll never end, like a stream coming from an ocean. A never-ending stream of guilt that falls, and falls, and falls until my eyes are swollen and there are no more tears to cry.

he whispers, gently rubbing my back. I shake my head. “Laurel, there is a sacredness in tears, they are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than a thousand prayer recitals. Your tears, they are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.” He pulls back and brushes away the wet strands of hair that are now plastered on my face. “You can cry.” And I do. The dam that had held my tears, grief, bitterness and anger in check finally burst and I let out an ear-piercing scream; a scream that curses at the Moon Goddess for taking away the man I love, for being so relentlessly cruel and unfair.