“There are these emotions which are eager to scream aloud, but they settle inside us without a cry.”

The sound of those crickets still drowns me in the summer fantasy.

She who has the courage to dive deep into the ocean will find the pearls.

I couldn’t experience an end with you, because you have always been a beginning to something new every day.

I found the universe in you when people thought the sky is the limit.

Anger makes you vulnerable, It slowdowns the mind and make us slip our tongues often.

Sometimes it’s suffocating by being surrounded by happiness and not being able to feel it.

It’s exhausting stitching the bruises of the past with the one you see your whole life with.

Surviving is to overcome a hurting wound living is to see your face each morning.

You were drunk in love by the time I was already sober.

Sometimes I wish that I was the first you’ve met when you turned eighteen. There could be so many more years which we could have lived together.

You make sunlight doubt its role in winters as you set my body on fire.

I thought butterflies are frail until they began to flit in my stomach.

In the story, I was the woman of words, where you couldn’t be a man of actions. At least my words weren’t a lie.

All those lavenders seemed purple in love they turned lilac without him.

Breaking things as a child seemed so easy, than fixing broken things as a adult.

Stop changing things in a way they are not meant to be.

I just lost my best friend, I have been crying hysterical for a full day.

there are times when life’s ends are so raveled that reason and sense cry out that we stop and gather them together again before we can proceed

Madness isn’t necessarily a negative thing, it can be a positive thing. You know, hearing them cry for you, if you have children, is a great thing, it’s your child.

Stop crying. You’re giving archangels everywhere a bad name.” patch to pepper

The audience likes their emotions to be touched. They want to laugh and cry and feel good.

For who would live so petty and unblest That dare not tilt at something ere he die; Rather than, screened by safe majority, Preserve his little life to little end, And never raise a rebel cry!

I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.

There is one in every crowd, for crying out loud, why was is always turning out to be me?