Quotes On Silent Tears Novels & Stories

Tears rolled down her cheek as her whole form shook with every sob. "Ya Allah make this decision the one I won't regret. Ya Allah make it a better decision for Raza. He doesn't deserve someone like me yet you destined this to happen. I don't want him to hate me like him. Ya rabb I don't want him to regret this decision if I had a choice I would've refused. Allahh...." She said.... She spoke... She's not mute. Why was she making dua for me. Like whom did she not want me to hate her. If she could talk why didn't she use her voice to refuse. Before I could process this any further a book fell from the dresser that was placed beside her door. I quickly hid behind the wall and quickly ran to my r

Not a second time. “I can’t,” I whispered. “What’s wrong?” he repeated, more insistent this time. It was like I hadn’t been thinking about it all along, and now that I was, the dam came tumbling down. Silent tears spilled out of my eyes and streaked down my cheeks onto the bed. “Oh, Kaitlyn – no… don’t,” he whispered tenderly, and cupped my face in his hands. “Please, don’t…” I closed my eyes and smiled a little through the tears – a bitterly sad smile. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t.”

He always pushed me to read it because he was eager to know how her day went. Her consistency amazed me. How was she able to keep up? A week passed and the ribbons kept coming. I kept reading them with amusement and it got to the time where I would look forward to it for me to get a laugh due to how hilarious it was. “It's better to cry than be angry because anger hurts others while tears flow silently through the soul and cleans the heart” That was the last note I got from her. Occasionally, I kept checking to see if there would be another note, but that was it.

Sobs tore out of me…ugly, gasping sounds that echoed in the empty penthouse. “How could you?” I whispered to the silence, tears streaming down my face. “How could you choose her over us?”

My tears soak my palms, my wrists, my t-shirt, and my body curls in on itself, small and devastated. “this is how a life ends,” I whisper to the empty room, voice cracking apart. “not with silence… but with betrayal.”

Then I stood there for several long seconds without moving. The room was completely silent. A heavy silence this time. Slowly, I walked over to the bed and sat on its edge. My hands rested in my lap. My eyes remained fixed on the floor. Then suddenly... The tears came. Silently. Without a sob. Without a sound. Heavy tears slowly slid down my cheeks. I hurriedly wiped them away. "What's wrong with me...?" A small, broken laugh escaped my lips. Then I whispered so quietly I barely heard myself.

Th⁠en he added— “But I’m cho‍os⁠ing not to.” Silence stretc⁠h⁠e⁠d betwe‌en them. Heavy bu‍t‍ no‍t empty. Ava bl⁠i‍⁠n⁠ke‌d s⁠l⁠owly‌. H‌er‍ tears didn’t fal⁠l as‍ fast⁠ now. Just qui‌e‍t‍ ones.

I hope you'll save many patients like Mom and me and help them recover. "I'm really glad to have him as a brother. I just wish I'd had the chance to be around. You have to promise me you won't be sad. Be happy, live well, and stay healthy. "And there's something I never got the chance to tell you. Dad, I love you." The screen froze on my wide smile. Dad pressed the phone screen against his heart, closed his eyes, and let a single tear fall. "Julian, I promise."

My eyes filled. I did not want them to. I pressed my lips together and breathed through it and told myself this was not the place and Lucas was not the person and crying in gardens was not something I was going to do. And then he said, very quietly, "It is all right, you know. Whatever it is." And the tears came. Not loudly. Not with sobs. Just silently and steadily, the way water comes through a crack in stone, because the crack had been there a long time and something had finally found it. The tears ran down my cheeks and dripped onto my hands and I could not stop them.

He said the smell of cooking oil on my skin made him sick. One time, I bought myself a birthday cake to celebrate with him. But he threw it straight in the trash just because I'd set it on the floor for a second while unlocking the door. "Trash is where filth belongs, and that's where you belong, too." Then, why did all his rules go out the window when it came to Vivian? My eyes stung. I tilted my head back, blinking hard at the sky to hold back the tears. But then it hit me—the dead couldn't cry. I was a spirit trapped between worlds, maybe because my attachment ran too deep to let me move on.