#cry

We cannot always cry at the right time and who is to say which time is right? ↗

— Madeleine L'Engle

#madeleine-l-engle #poetry #right-time #love

You're letting me go?" He curled his upper lip, his expression painfully bitter as he took a step back from me. "Apparently... I never had a hold of you." He turned sharply, and without another word striding down the street into the dark. Braden never once looked back and that was a good thing. If he had, he'd have seen Jocelyn Butler crying real tears for the first time in a long time, and he would have known that I'd lied. And lied big. For anyone who saw me, knew they were watching a heart in the process of it breaking. ↗

— Samantha Young

#cry #heart #love #sad #tears

He was so rapt in his thoughts that he did not hear anything much that Guido was saying, that lovely bubbling speech of Guido's when he was at last content. Tonio allowed it to pass over him, and now and then he would give a little gracious nod. ↗

— Anne Rice

#cry-to-heaven #guido-maffeo #tonio-treschi #love

A man need not be ashamed of moist eyes when he gazes on the face of some loved one who is far away. It's human. It shows a kindly heart, an impressionable mind! ("The Doomed Man") ↗

— Dick Donovan

#heart #kind #love #man #tears

I have been crying," she replied, simply, "and it has done me good. It helps a woman you know, just as swearing helps a man. ↗

— Horace Annesley Vachell

#men #women #men

Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them. ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#feminism #men

So what about that key?" I asked. "I knew you'd be asking me about it sooner or later." He pulled the cord out from underneath his shirt and dangled the key in front of me. "What do you want for it?" I sneered. "Five dollars?" "I don't want money," he said with a wicked grin. "What does it go to?" "A kiss will unlock more than this key will," he whispered in my ear. ↗

— Ellen Schreiber

#raven #trevor #vampire-kisses #money

You would think there's a natural limit to tears: only so much the body can give at one sitting before it runs dry. ↗

— Janice Galloway

#tears #weeping #nature

Nature is an outcry, unpolished truth; the art—a euphemism—tamed wilderness. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dejan-stojanovic #euphemism #literature #literature-quotes #nature

Imagine you are Siri Keeton: You wake in an agony of resurrection, gasping after a record-shattering bout of sleep apnea spanning one hundred forty days. You can feel your blood, syrupy with dobutamine and leuenkephalin, forcing its way through arteries shriveled by months on standby. The body inflates in painful increments: blood vessels dilate; flesh peels apart from flesh; ribs crack in your ears with sudden unaccustomed flexion. Your joints have seized up through disuse. You're a stick-man, frozen in some perverse rigor vitae. You'd scream if you had the breath. Vampires did this all the time, you remember. It was normal for them, it was their own unique take on resource conservation. They could have taught your kind a few things about restraint, if that absurd aversion to right-angles hadn't done them in at the dawn of civilization. Maybe they still can. They're back now, after all— raised from the grave with the voodoo of paleogenetics, stitched together from junk genes and fossil marrow steeped in the blood of sociopaths and high-functioning autistics. One of them commands this very mission. A handful of his genes live on in your own body so it too can rise from the dead, here at the edge of interstellar space. Nobody gets past Jupiter without becoming part vampire. ↗

— Peter Watts

#science-fiction #space-travel #vampires #imagination