A Shoulder To Cry On Quotes

When the day seems darkest, Remember there is always a friend nearby, A shoulder to cry on, A warm hand to wipe away the tears. Hope to see you tonight. Yours always, Cole ~ Keary Taylor

It is not weakness to open your heart. It does not make you less of a man to to ask for help. To turn to someone when you're vulnerable. To need a shoulder to cry on. You don't have to bear the weight of anything by yourself. ~ Marie Lu

Please don't be sorry, Grace. I am your friend and I'm here if you need to talk about anything or need a shoulder to cry on."
"Thanks."
"Especially if that's the only way I'll ever get to hold you. ~ Christine Zolendz

But their mother was the family's heartbeat. Always she was at the center of their good and bad times, lending perspective or a kind word or a shoulder to cry on. ~ Karen Kingsbury

Some confidants have wings and a beak, or four legs and a tail. ~ Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Would it help," he asked gently, "to have a shoulder to cry on?"
She fought to conceal how much the question unnerved her. "Thank you, but no." Carefully she dropped the herbs into the kettle. "Crying is a waste of time."
"' To weep is to make less the depth of grief.'"
"Is that a Romany saying?"
"Shakespeare. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Do you have a shoulder to cry on?
Someone who would listen to your deepest woes without judging you?
Or is it just you and the image in the mirror? ~ Sanhita Baruah

Grandmothers are everything in life:
1. If you need a friend, grandma is willing to be your best friend ever.
2. If you need a shoulder to cry on, grandma is there to listen.
3. If you need an encouragement, grandma is there to give you one.
4. If you need an advice, grandma is there to give you the best advice.
5. If you need a prayer partner, grandma is there to pray with you.
6. If you need someone to understand your situation, grandma is there to show support.
The list goes on!!!! ~ Euginia Herlihy

We fear losing friends. We fear losing a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh with, someone who knows our secrets. Someone who has seen us at our best and worst. We fear losing a friend whom we once relied on.
More than that, we fear the reason they left.
What if it was our fault? ~ Courtney Peppernell

The most important man in my life is and always will be Alain Delon. He is always there when I need a shoulder to cry on ... even today Alain is the only man I can count on. He would always help me. Only Alain shaped me as a woman. Even though he hurt me a lot when he left me I also matured because of it. ~ Romy Schneider

As she told her staff, there was always time to hold someone's hand or listen to their worries or offer a shoulder to cry on, because in the blink of an eye you could be on the other side of that conversation. After all, tragedy didn't discriminate, so everyone was subject to the same whims of fate. No matter what your skin color was or how much money you had, whether you were gay or straight, or an atheist or a true believer, from where she stood, everyone was equal. And loved by someone, somewhere. ~ J.R. Ward

You wonder why I didn't become bitter at the world.
You wonder why I don't resent the world.
Because I knew I needed to become something that could withstand the world.
For my siblings, for my family, for anyone who'd grow up after me and need someone to defend them when they can't defend themselves; when they need a shoulder to cry on or a safety net to fall in – I'm here. I've been here.
I'm always here. ~ Krista Ritchie

I have often thought how much happier I should have been if, instead of accepting a command under such Circumstances, I should have taken my musket upon my Shoulder & entered the Ranks or ... had retir'd to the back country & lived in a Wig-wam. - GEORGE WASHINGTON ~ Joseph J. Ellis

Really?" asked Nina, tugging at her corset. Pollen from one of the irises had scattered over her bare shoulder. Matthias had the overwhelming urge to brush it away with his lips. It's probably poisonous, he told himself sternly. Maybe he should take a walk. ~ Leigh Bardugo

Matthew sighed as he set the bottle on the mantel. "You know what they say," he said, as he and James left the room and began to wend their way back toward the party. "Drink, and you will sleep; sleep, and you will not sin; do not sin, and you will be saved; therefore, drink and be saved."
"Matthew, you could sin in your sleep," said a languorous voice.
"Anna," said Matthew, sagging against James's shoulder. "Have you been sent to fetch us?"
Lounging against the wall was James's cousin Anna Lightwood, gorgeously dressed in fitted trousers and a pin-striped shirt. She had the Herondale blue eyes, always disconcerting for James to see, as it felt a bit as if his father were looking at him. "If by 'fetch,' you mean 'drag you back to the ballroom by any means possible,'  " Anna said. "There are girls who need someone to dance with them and tell them they look pretty, and I cannot do it all on my own."
The musicians in the ballroom suddenly struck up a tune - a lively waltz.
"Crikey, not waltzing," said Matthew, in despair. "I loathe waltzing."
He began to back away. Anna seized him by the back of the coat. "Oh, no, you don't," she said, and firmly herded both of them toward the ballroom. ~ Cassandra Clare

Individually the disciple and friend of Jesus who has learned to work shoulder to shoulder with his or her Lord stands in this world as a point of contact between heaven and earth, a kind of Jacob's ladder by which the angels of God may ascend from and descend into human life. Thus the disciple stands as an envoy or a receiver by which the kingdom of God is conveyed into every quarter of human affairs. ~ Dallas Willard

I stood up angrily. "Look, I'm done talking to you tonight. Will you let me out of this dream? I'm not telling you where I am. And I'm not interested in hearing about how wonderful Avery is and how much better than me she is."

"Avery would never act like a little brat," he said. "She wouldn't get so offended that someone actually cares enough to check on her. She wouldn't deny me the chance to learn more about my magic because she was paranoid someone would ruin her crazy attempt to get over her boyfriend's death."

"Don't talk to me about being a brat," I shot back. "You're as selfish and
self-centered as usual. It's always about you - even this dream is. You hold me against my will, whether I want it or not, because it amuses you."

"Fine," he said, voice cold. "I'll end this. And I'll end everything between us. I won't be coming back."

"Good. I hope you mean it this time."

His green eyes were the last thing I saw before I woke up in my own bed. I sat up, gasping. My heart felt like it was breaking, and I almost thought I might cry. Adrian was right - I had been a brat. I'd lashed out at him when it wasn't really deserved. And yet . . . I hadn't been able to help it. I missed Lissa. I even kind of missed Adrian. And now someone else was taking my place, someone who wouldn't just walk away like I had.

I won't be coming back.

And for the first time ever, I had a feeling he really wouldn't be. ~ Richelle Mead

Long before I was ready to say good-bye, Hannah rose to her feet and beckoned to Andrew. "We've had enough excitement for one day. It's time to leave."
After making sure Aunt Blythe wasn't looking, Andrew pulled a leather bag out of his pocket. "She thinks you already have these," he said. "They're yours for keeps now."
I clasped the marbles to my heart and stared at him through a blur of tears. "Come back soon, Andrew."
He hugged me so hard he squashed my nose against his bony shoulder. "At my age, I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best to see you again, and that's the truth. After all, Hannah and I aren't that far away. With modern cars and highways, Riverview's a sight closer than it used to be."
Reluctant to let him go, I looked him in the eye. "No matter what happens, I'll always keep you here." I struck my chest with my fist. "Right here in my heart as long as I live."
Andrew smiled. "I fancy you picked up that pretty notion from Hannah." Hugging me again, he said, "I hope your heart lasts as long as mine has, Drew. I want you to have all the time in the world to do whatever you like. ~ Mary Downing Hahn

The living do not see eternity, just as they don't see Everlost, but they sense both in ways that they don't even know. They don't feel the Everlost barrier set across the Mississippi River, and yet no one had ever dared to draw city boundaries that straddle both sides of its waters. The living do not see Afterlights, and yet everyone has had times when they've felt a presence near them - sometimes comforting, sometimes not - but always strong enough to make one turn around and look over one's shoulder. ~ Neal Shusterman

Our horses plunged up the trail.
"Go on…Go!" Bran jerked one hand toward the mountains, then swayed in his saddle.
Another arrow sang overhead.
"I won't leave you," I snapped.
"Go. Our people…Carry on the fight."
"Bran--"
In answer he yanked the reins on his terrified horse, which lunged toward mine. Gritting his teeth, he leaned out and whipped the ends of his reins across the mare's shoulder. "Go!"
My mount panicked, leaped forward. My neck snapped back. I clutched to the horse's mane with all my strength. The last glimpse I had of Bran was of his white face and his anxious eyes watching me as he and his mount fell back.
And then I was on my own.
For a time the mare raced straight up the trail while the only thought I could hold in my mind was, A trap? A trap? And then the image, seen endlessly, of Bran being shot.
Then a scrap of memory floated up before my inner eye. Again I saw the elegant Renselaeus dining room, heard the Marquis's refined drawling voice: My people are taking and holding the Vesingrui fortress on your border. For now they are wearing the green uniform…
A trap. Cold fury washed through me. They have betrayed us.
It was then that I recovered enough presence of mind to realize that I was in my home territory at last, and I could leave the trail anytime. The horse had recovered from the panic and was trotting. So I recaptured the reins, leading the horse across the side of the mountain toward the ~ Sherwood Smith

Ten thousand years ago, her husband, Abraham the Mage, had presented her with the weapons and armor. "To keep you safe," he said, his speech a slurred mumble. "Now and always. When you wear it, think of me."
"I'll think of you even when I'm not wearing it," she promised, and never a day went by when she did not think of the man who had worked so hard and sacrificed so much to make and save the world. The memory of him was vivid.
Abraham stood tall and slender in a darkened room at the top of the crystal tower, the Tor Ri. He was wrapped in shadow, turned away from her so she wouldn't see the Change that had almost completely claimed his flesh, transforming it to solid gold. She remembered turning him to the light so she could look at him for what she knew might be the very last time. Then she had held him, pressing his flesh and metal against her skin, and wept against his shoulder. And when she looked into his face, a single tear, a solid bead of gold, rolled down his cheek. Rising up on her toes, she had kissed the tear off his face, swallowing it. Tsagaglalal pressed her hands to her stomach. It nestled within her still. ~ Michael Scott

His knees grew weak, and he sat on Saphira's right paw. She lowered her head and nuzzled his shoulder, and he leaned his head against her.
We did it, she said in a quiet tone.
We did it, he said, hardly able to believe the words. ~ Christopher Paolini

Oh, hell," Kelsier said. "There's actually a God?"
"Yes."
Kelsier decked him.
It was a good, clean punch, thrown from the shoulder while he brought his other arm up to block a counter strike. ~ Brandon Sanderson

Somebody just back of you while you are fishing is as bad as someone looking over your shoulder while you write a letter to your girl. ~ Ernest Hemingway,

Please,' Hannah cries, sitting up on her knees and sobbing to the sky. She chokes, shudders, blinks away the tears. 'Please, either help me or take this away from me. I don't want this anymore.'
But her stormy heart does not settle. Her muscles do not relax. She looks at the stars and wonders why God made them so good, so brilliant, but made her so wrong and broken. Her eyes spill over with tears and her throat burns. She pounds her fists into the earth, into the grass and soil, and emits an animal-like cry from the depths of her body.
'Please,' she sobs, digging her hands into the soil. 'Please. ~ Kelly Quindlen

He was not her sole companion. She had her demons, too.

You can't run from them, as Lexi discovered. Changing cities doesn't help either; you carry them along inside you. You just wake up one day, fed up, and decide to snuggle with them instead. You invite them along as you go about your day, balancing them on your shoulder as you would a toddler, but with very strict conditions: You will not set fire to my hair. You will not take candy from strangers. You will not tie me up in chains while I sleep. You will behave.

And Lexi's demons, allowed to come close, sat on her shoulder. They waved to the angels perched on her other shoulder and struck up a conversation with Lexi.

'What's that noise?' her demons asked, sidling close to her ear.

'Oh, that?' Lexi massaged her temples. 'It's the air whistling through the hole in my heart.'

'You're afraid,' they taunted.

'I am,' she admitted. 'Afraid of the sky falling. Afraid of the tight-rope snapping. Afraid I can't dance well enough on the edge. Afraid there are no hands to steady my body. Afraid of hands that wish to cage my heart.'

'Coward,' the demons goaded. ~ Angela Panayotopulos

Touch had always saved them in the past. No matter the anger or hurt, no matter the depth of the aloneness, a touch, even a light and passing touch, reminded them of their long togetherness. A palm on a neck: it all flooded back. A head leaned upon a shoulder: the chemicals surged, the memory of love. At times, it was almost impossible to cross the distance between their bodies, to reach out. At times, it was impossible. Each new the feeling so well, in the silence of a darkened bedroom, looking at the same ceiling: If I could open my fingers, my heart's fingers could open. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

I write first drafts with only the good angel on my shoulder, the voice that approves of everything I write. This voice does'nt ask questions like, Is this good? Is this a poem? Are you a poet? I keep this voice at a distance, letting only the good angel whisper to me: Trust yourself. You can't worry a poem into existence. ~ Georgia Heard

To beat me, you had to break my serve, which did not break as easily as it had before. That's when I became dangeroud. That's when all those defeats turned into victories. At age fifteen, I began to win, and win consistently. My serve propelled me into a golden era, some of the best years of my career. But I would eventually pay a price for that serve and the tremendous pressure it put on my shoulder. ~ Maria Sharapova

Sandra stood by, quietly amused: she wore a sugar pink track suit with matching plastic hairslides in the shape of elephants. Edward could see quite clearly behind her shoulder, like the aura visible to spiritualists, the woman she would be in thirty years time. There is probably nothing to be done about people, he thought, nothing at all, nor ever has been: processed, from the cradle to the grave. Most neither know nor care, which makes it worse. ~ Penelope Lively

after having, for instance, reproduced in a picture the right shoulder or the right ear of a figure, we deem it totally vain and useless to reproduce the left shoulder or the left ear. We do not draw sounds, but their vibrating invervals. We do not paint diseases, but their symtoms and their consequences. ~ Owen Jones Classics

Any more questions?" I ask, poking him gently in the ribs.
"Do you still love me any?" Eliot asks, putting his hand over mine.
"A little."
"A little?" he asks, pulling away from me.
"A lot."
"How much?" he asks.
"More than chocolate chip cookies."
"Mmm" he says, kissing my shoulder.
"More than walking on the beach." Eliot kisses me on the neck.
"More than ... " I pause, turning to look at him.
"More than?" he asks, kissing my lips.
I turn toward him. "Anything. ~ Brad Barkley

He ran his hand from my wrist up to the crook of my elbow and then to my shoulder. "When I was a little kid, my dad would come to my room at night to say a prayer with me. He used to say, 'Lord, We know there's a little girl out there who's meant for Henry. Please protect her and raise her up right.'" His voice changed to something slower and more country when he mimicked his dad. He smiled at the memory, and then he put his mouth near my ear and whispered. "You were that little girl. ~ Laura Anderson Kurk

I was a closet pacifier advocate. So were most of my friends. Unknown to our mothers, we owned thirty or forty of those little suckers that were placed strategically around the house so a cry could be silenced in less than thirty seconds. Even though bottles were boiled, rooms disinfected, and germs fought one on one, no one seemed to care where the pacifier had been. ~ Erma Bombeck

4. Full Circle

Today I like the traffic jam.
The engine noises heard in detail.
My whole life, a river of thresholds, stitches itself together
and gazes at me
from everywhere.
I like these places where time kinks and looks back over its shoulder
at itself. It confuses them, who are used to being blurs.
But I'm alright here with my terror. I'm in no hurry.
I get paid by the hour.
I let anybody merge in front of me.
I know there's nowhere to hide. ~ Richard Cronshey

Finding her voice at last, she asked, "What dreams are you having, sir?"
"I dreamt I was in a spring field and a woman stands in the shadows just at the edge of the nearby forest. I haven't yet seen her face, only her long beautiful hair. I always wake too soon." He reached up to touch the hawk touchstone around his throat as he described his dream, rubbing it absently between his fingers.
Lily lowered her lashes to hide her astonishment. "When you see someone in a dream but cannot see their face, it means you haven't met them yet," she explained.
"Then perhaps I'll dream of her again tonight and this time I'll see her face." He smiled, reaching across the table to take her left hand and lift it to his lips. "My name is Ian Kelly, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to know yours."
"Lily Evans. Around here I go by Raven." She raised a shoulder, indicating the gypsy tent.
"Lily--indeed, a most beautiful name. Now tell me," he stared pointedly at her hand, "I see no ring that another has claimed you as his, so my confidence is strengthened. Look at your cards again, milady, and tell me if you see me in your future… ~ Shannon MacLeod

Valetta," he said, thinking she still looked good, then abandoning his Spidey sense long enough to let her take him in her arms, the skin of her bare shoulder in a halter top cool against his shoulder, the lady most definitely giving off that heavy 1978 Spencer's smell of love candles and sandlewood incense but, laid over top of it, the stink of cigarette, the instant-potatoes smell you might find in the interior of a beat-to-shit Toronado. "Damn. ~ Michael Chabon

According to the old joke, married people are often like little boys bathing, who cry with chattering teeth to the boys on the shore, 'Do come in, it's so warm' - it is not always warm. ~ Dinah Maria Murlock Craik

He closed his eyes as she put her hand on his shoulder, and in that instant, nothing else mattered. Not the song, not the place, not the other couples around him. Only this, only her. He gave himself over to the feel of her body as it pressed against him, and they moved slowly in small circles on the sawdust-strewn floor, lost in a world that felt as though it had been created for just the two of them. ~ Nicholas Sparks

Ah, yes, the departmental shrink. And in the silence that followed, he knew everyone was waiting for him to groan, but he wasn't a Lethal Weapon wild card, damn it.
Yeah. For example, he couldn't dislocate his shoulder, he didn't live on the beach with a dog, and he wasn't rocking a death wish. You're welcome. ~ J.R. Ward

She wished she wasn't jealous, but in quiet, weak moments, she desperately wanted to be like them. She wanted gentlemen to shoulder each other out of the way for her attention, to hang on her every word, however vapid those words would have to be. She wished a gentleman, just one gentleman, would notice her.
But then she remembered that she didn't like to be vapid, and she didn't wish her entire life to revolve around the attention of men. ~ Annabel Joseph

Take a drawing by Matisse, a simple curve of a leg or a shoulder. Is there a basis, at the beginning when he starts drawing his curve? There isn't. This is what I'm trying to say. And that's what comprises the originality of Max Ophuls, which he acquired a little bit at a time, because in Liebelei, in Letter from an Unknown Woman, in his American films, it's not there. It's a freedom that is earned and that is found, that isn't applied. On a basic level, it's neither better nor worse as a way of making a film. But there's something extremely original that we found so satisfying back in the day and that continues to satisfy me now … There's a kind of pure cinema of that era – you might even call it experimental – which has disappeared. There's no literature…not that there's no text or dialogue, but there's no pre-literature.

(Jean-Luc Godard in conversation with Marcel Ophuls, 2002) ~ Jean-Luc Godard

Leni had never known anyone who had died before. She had seen death on television and read about it in her beloved books, but now she saw the truth of it. In literature, death was many things - a message, catharsis, retribution. There were deaths that came from a beating heart that stopped and deaths of another kind, a choice made, like Frodo going to the Grey Havens. Death made you cry, filled you with sadness, but in the best of her books, there was peace, too, satisfaction, a sense of the story ending as it should.

In real life, she saw, it wasn't like that. It was sadness opening up inside of you, changing how you saw the world. ~ Kristin Hannah

I wish I worried about my uncle's opinions, and had problems to work out with my mom. Hell, I'd settle for knowing what her voice sounded like." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Trite but true - you don't know what you have until it's gone. People change. The world changes. And sooner or later you lose people you care about. If you don't mind some advice from someone who doesn't know much about families, I can tell you this: Don't take yours for granted. It might feel like all of them will always be there. But they won't. ~ Jim Butcher

Right then, Mel came into the bar, hung her jacket on the peg inside the door and jumped up on a stool in front of her husband, elbows on the bar, leaning toward him for a kiss. "Holy shit," one of the men said. "Look at that one. Talk about a doe I'd like to bag." Jack straightened before meeting his wife's lips. The look on his face wasn't a pretty one. "You know," Mike said, laughing uncomfortably, "about our women. You boys don't want to be giving the women around here any trouble. Trust me on this, okay?" That set up a round of hilarious laughter at the table of hunters and one of them said, unfortunately too loudly, "Maybe the girl wants to get bagged. I think we should at least ask her!" But oops - glancing over his shoulder, Mike saw Jack had heard that. And probably so had Mel. And after what those two had been through earlier in the summer, comments like that were not taken lightly. And ~ Robyn Carr

Jess pushed herself up to sit next to him. "In case you didn't get the memo, it' s my turn to take care of you right now." Ike dropped his face into his hands on a groan, and Jess's cool hand massages his neck. "Oh, my God. You're so hot."
He chuffed out a small laugh. "Why, thank you."
Jess Chuckled. "You realize you don't have to fish for compliments, right? Not from me. Because I will straight-up tell you that the sight of your Ravens tat stretched over all these muscles gives me a lady boner." Her fingers traced the design across his shoulder blades - a spread-winged raven perches on the hilt of a dagger sunk into the eye socket of a skull. The block letters of the club's name arched over the menacing black bird.
He threw her some major side-eye. "I know I'm sick because the perverted part of my brain just heard you say my ink gives you a lady boner. ~ Laura Kaye

Iraq has tremendous resources that belong to the Iraqi people. And so there are a variety of means that Iraq has to be able to shoulder much of the burden for ther own reconstruction. ~ Ari Fleischer

Even printed, on pages that are bound, sentences remain unsettled organisms. Years later, I can always reach out to smooth a stray hair. And yet, at a certain point, I must walk away, trusting them to do their work. I am left looking over my shoulder, wondering if I might have structured one more effectively. ~ Jhumpa Lahiri

We sat under the mango tree and I was holding his hand when he began to cry. Drops fell on my hand like the water from the dripstone in the filter in our yard. Then I began to cry too and when I felt my own tears on my hand I thought, 'Now perhaps we're married.
'Yes, certainly, now we're married,' I thought. ~ Jean Rhys

Well," he asked, "whaddya expect?"
It was so obviously a rhetorical question that of course I answered it. My truth impulse seemed stronger around this boy,my impulse control way under par.
"I would expect you to be dancing."
His expression was unreadable in the limited light. "Is that an invitation?"
"No. An observation."
He shrugged. "Okay. I needed a break. It was either keep an eye on Chase while he pukes up a fifth of cheap rum in the guys' bathroom or follow the girls into the ladies' room."
I almost smiled and told him about Willing's bathrooms and me. Instead, some truly horrific and irresistible impulse had me announcing, "Amanda looks really pretty tonight."
"So do you."
Bizarrely, I felt my breath catch in my chest, and for a long, awful second, I thought I might cry. I gripped the top of my pad tightly, concentrated on the spiral metal binding where it dug into my skin.
"It's a cool costume," he said. "Water nymph?"
"Sea goddess," I answered quietly. "Roman."
"Hmm." Alex was staring out toward the garden now,looking so at ease that I went from pretzel to knot. Could it really be that easy for him? To say things like he did without thinking? Without meaning them at all? "Too many mermaids tonight. Not that I have anything against mermaids.Mermaids are hot. I mean,you saw my drawing."
I nodded.
"You know," he went on, "that day in the hall,you compared my stuff to two Japanese artists-"
I nodded a ~ Melissa Jensen

Jax's eyes fell to my shoulder, and I realised he was looking at my hair. "Nice colour," he said.
"Thanks."
"Is that your rebellion flare?" he asked.
I couldn't help it. I laughed again. "It's rated number two for 'how to scare your dad' products, online."
"Right under piercings," he said.
"Actually, I think pregnancy tests are number one," I said, and he laughed.
"And we can't forget tattoos," Jax offered.
"I've got that one covered." I raised my wrist with a smile. I had been waiting for this moment for a long time. ~ Katie Kacvinsky