“I have cried even when the laugh did choke me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just the same.”

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere.

She has man’s brain–a brain that a man should have were he much gifted–and woman’s heart. The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me when He made that so good combination.

There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.

The inscrutable laws of sex have so arranged that even a timid woman is not afraid of a fierce and haughty man.

No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.

There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part.

It is something like the way dame Nature gathers round a foreign body an envelope of some insensitive tissue which can protect from evil that which it would otherwise harm by contact.

My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side.

There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebration.

A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.

Enter freely and of your own free will!

For now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help sooth me.

I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.

Oh, my dear, if you only knew how strange is the matter regarding which I am here, it is you who would laugh.

Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.

The blood is the life!

Crying so hard, I can’t hardly breathe.

Every cloud has a silver lining. But an irony resides, as the cloud grows & cries. Turns white into grey and let’s go off the things, It can’t hold for life.

I cried so much that my tears, made up a sea, I survived sailing in that teary sea, to reach the shore, which, at first, didn’t have a door for me!

Trees have heard the echoes mountains have cried in despair all alone.

How we yell is because of them how we cry is because of them but how we love is because of us.

Be careful, her hell is lovely, dark, and deep until she weeps.

What if my ink runs dry or I have no words to sum up the tears I cry how do I write about nothing?

With all your words of glass, I felt the wedding dress rip If I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing me cry why should I want to give you the rest of my life?