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Tears Falling Quotes

Paul Verlaine quote: "Tears fall in my heart like the rain on the town."
Tears fall in my heart like the rain on the town. Paul Verlaine
It is the privilege of the rich. To waste the time of the poor. To water with tears in secret. A tree that grows in secret. That bears fruit in secret. That ripened falls to the ground in secret. And manures the parent tree. Oh the wicked tree of hatred and the secret. The sap rising and the tears falling. Stevie Smith
You know, when children are silent and proud, and they try to keep back their tears when they are in great trouble and suddenly break down, their tears fall in streams. Fyodor Dostoevsky
When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow, it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand. Henry Miller
And still Meriadoc the hobbit stood there blinking through his tears, and no one spoke to him, indeed none seemed to heed him. He brushed away the tears, and stooped to pick up the green shield that Eowyn had given him, and he slung it at his back. Then he looked for his sword that he had let fall; for even as he struck his blow his arm was numbed, and now he could only use his left hand. J. R. R. Tolkien
It is a strangeworld, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, andtroubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make themall dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and drybones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall, alldance together to the music that he make with thatsmileless mouth of him. Ah, we men and womenare like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us differentways. Then tears come, and like the rain on the ropes, they brace us up, until perhaps the strain... Bram Stoker
Whatever happened to me in my life, happened to me as a writer of plays. I'd fall in love, or fall in lust. And at the height of my passion, I would think, 'So this is how it feels,' and I would tie it up in pretty words. I watched my life as if it were happening to someone else. My son died. And I was hurt, but I watched my hurt, and even relished it, a little, for now I could write a real death, a true loss. My heart was broken by my dark lady, and I wept, in my room, alone; but while I... Neil Gaiman
February. Get ink, shed tears. Write of it, sob your heart out, sing, While torrential slush that roars. Burns in the blackness of the spring. Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas, Race through the noice of bells and wheels. To where the ink and all you grieving. Are muffled when the rainshower falls. To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal, A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees, Fall down into the puddles, hurl. Dry sadness deep into the eyes. Below, the wet black earth shows through, With... Boris Pasternak
And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them? Mervyn Peake
Thou knowest all; I seek in vain. What lands to till or sow with seed -The land is black with briar and weed, Nor cares for falling tears or rain. Thou knowest all; I sit and wait. With blinded eyes and hands that fail, Till the last lifting of the veil. And the first opening of the gate. Thou knowest all; I cannot see. I trust I shall not live in vain, I know that we shall meet again. In some divine eternity. Oscar Wilde
Are you sure you can prevent yourself from falling in love one of these days? Such things do happen, you know, even to the most prudent men.'Simon gave him a strange, one might even have thought a hostile, look. I should tear it out of my heart as I'd wrench out of my mouth a rotten tooth. W. Somerset Maugham
And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off? Or pretending? He let them fall. J. K. Rowling
February. Boris Pasternak. It's February. Get ink. Weep. Write the heart out about it, sing. Another song of February. While raucous slush burns black with spring. Six grivnas* for a buggy ride. Past booming bells, on screaming gears, Out to a place where drizzles fall. Louder than any ink or tears. Where like a flock of charcoal pears, A thousand blackbirds, ripped awry. From trees to puddles, knock dry grief. Into the deep end of the eye. A thaw patch blackens underfoot. The wind is gutted... Boris Pasternak
Automn ill and adored. You die when the hurricane blows in the roseries. When it has snowed. In the orchard trees. Poor automn Dead in whiteness and riches. Of snow and ripe fruits. Deep in the sky. The sparrow hawks cry. Over the sprites with green hair dwarfs. Who've never been loved. Inthe far tree-lines. The stags are groaning. And how I love O season how I love your rumbling. The falling fruits that no one gathers. The wind in the forest that are tumbling. All their tears in automn leaf... Guillaume Apollinaire
The Cicada sing an endless song in the long grass, smells run along the earth and falling stars run over the sky, like tears over a cheek. You are the privileged person to whom everything is taken. The Kings of Tarshish shall bring gifts. Isak Dinesen

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