Laugh Or Cry Quotes

If you want a definition of poetry, say: Poetry is what makes me laugh or cry or yawn, what makes my toenails twinkle, what makes me want to do this or that or nothing and let it go at that. ~ Dylan Thomas

Memories are powerful that way. They can bring back to another place and time and make them laugh or cry all over again. ~ Shannon Wiersbitzky

What I find interesting is how close you can run the laughter along the seam of seriousness, and occasionally cross it, so that half the house genuinely doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Custard pie humour is fairly universal, but at the other end, which I'm more interested in, there's the humour that hovers on the darkness, that walks in the shadow of something else, not always that obvious. ~ Alan Ayckbourn

Don't marry a man unless he can make you laugh. Life just presents so many things where the only option is to laugh or cry. Laughing is the better option. ~ Belle Blackburn

Wildlife is and should be useless in the same way art, music, poetry and even sports are useless. They are useless in the sense that they do nothing more than raise our spirits, make us laugh or cry, frighten, disturb and delight us. They connect us not just to what's weird, different, other, but to a world where we humans do not matter nearly as much as we like to think.
And that should be enough. ~ Richard Conniff

I was alone. I had no one. No mother, no father, no brothers, no sisters, no grandmas, no grandpas, no uncles, no aunties, no cousins, and no tribe. I'd seen the children at the orphanage laugh or cry when they received news about a family member. I would never receive such news and no family would laugh or cry for me. That day I understood with sharp clarity that I didn't have a mother who wanted me. ~ Maria Nhambu

I wonder if God cries. Or gets sad, even. Or happy. Or elated. Does he ever have a good belly laugh? Does he sense contentment? Does he feel pride or remorse? Is he stoic? We know from the Old Testament that he experiences bloodthirsty, murderous rage and fierce pride. He imbued mankind with all of these emotions, but it's hard to imagine him feeling any of these. It's almost a little embarrassing to think of him feeling jealousy. Of course he's WAY more advanced and evolved than we are. So I guess the ultimate stage of humanity is when we don't laugh or cry or experience emotion at all. God gave us laughter as a constant remind of what lesser-evolved beings humans are. Stupid humans! ~ David Cross

Acting is about giving yourself away, like the U2 song 'With or Without You.' You just don't stay behind a character and make people laugh or cry. At some point you have to take off that mask, and when you do, you're a human being, not just an actor. After all, I'm Catherine the person first. You share that. ~ Catherine Hicks

It's funny. You succeed, but now where are you gonna go from there? I've got to keep proving that I can laugh or cry more real each time. ~ Jeff Bridges

One day you'll hear that song you both liked on the radio and it won't make you cry. You'll wake up one morning and they won't be the first thing you think about, or the last thing you think about when you're falling asleep at night. Their face won't be the one you see any more when you close your eyes, or in a crowd when you're walking down a street. And when something makes you laugh, or cry, they won't be the person you want to share it with. ~ Alexandra Potter

There's something in the moment when you can make them laugh or cry and show and incredibly compassionate side of life. I find that a really exemplary way to live. ~ Gedde Watanabe

Everybody's looking for that something
One thing that makes it all complete
You'll find it in the strangest places
Places you never knew it could be

Some find it in the face of their children
Some find it in their lover's eyes
Who can deny the joy it brings?
When you've found that special thing
You're flying without wings

Some find it sharing every morning
Some in their solitary nights
You'll find it in the words of others
A simple line can make you laugh or cry

You'll find it in the deepest friendship
The kind you cherish all your life
And when you know how much that means
You've found that special thing
You're flying without wings

So impossible as they may seem
You've got to fight for every dream
'Cause who's to know which one you let go
Would have made you complete ~ Westlife

Baby, it's either laugh or cry and crying takes way too much energy. If you can't find humor in the shit life heaps on you, you really will grow miserable. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Whenever I drink champagne I either laugh or cry ... I get so emotional! I love champagne. ~ Tina Turner

I think, as an artist, whether you're making people laugh or cry or be frustrated or excited - the fact that you're generating some sort of emotion out of an audience is, to me, worth it. ~ Elisha Cuthbert

I'm a sorcerer because I start with nothing, and then, eventually, there is something. And I touch you, I move you, I make you laugh or cry, and you believe in what's happening on the screen, although I always show it's invented. ~ Michel Ocelot

Busy in a bus or lacking luck you poke to pluck a pick-up truck.
Utterly shocked you choke in the lock and check if you chuck a buck or if you are stuck in the muck.
So you should lurk in a day like this in such a murky lucky way.
In a day when you don't know if you laugh or cry...
Errands wait for those who are late in the busiest day.
Such day that defies all your senses and makes you want to fly...
To fly away! ~ Ana Claudia Antunes

Did we come here to laugh or cry ? Are we dying or being born ? ~ Carlos Fuentes

There are other questions too that humans have in bookstores. Such as, is it one of those books they read to feel clever, or one of those they will pretend they never read in order to stay looking clever? Will it make them laugh or cry? Or will it simply force them to stare out of the window watching the tracks of raindrops? Is it a true story? Or is it a false one? Is it the kind of story that will work on their brain or one which aims for lower organs? Is it one of those books that ends up acquiring religious followers or getting burned by them? Is ~ Matt Haig

You made me laugh at your jokes.
You made me cry at your criticism.
You made me shout at your lies.
Then I noticed how in every case someone else was present,
hearing you without laughter or tears or anger.
I alone reacted.
I see now; you never made me laugh or cry or rage.
I chose to find humor.
I chose to take offense.
I chose to feel scorned.
The truth is, you never had power over me. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Generally my favorite remarks always come from my readers. I've had people say my books made them laugh, or cry, or that it frightened them late at night. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

No, my young apprentice. You said the exact right thing. Again. I'm just laughing at life."
"Why?" he asked, opening both his eyes.
"Because sometimes it's either laugh or cry. I prefer laugh. How about you? ~ P.C. Cast

Danae and Theano nodded but settled down more comfortably to hear their friend tell it once again. A story passed the time. A story took your thoughs far awar from your own troubles. A story could make you laugh or cry. it could fill you with wonder. And the stories you'd heard already were the best of all, because you knew there would be no disappointment at the end. There would be no unpleasant surprises. Of course, new stories that no one had told before were truly best of all, but they were rare, and hearing one for the first time was like coming across a scarlet flower you didn't recognise hidden in a crevice in the rocks. ~ Adele Geras

In the vast majority of movies, everything is done for the audience. We are cued to laugh or cry, be frightened or relieved; Hitchcock called the movies a machine for causing emotions in the audience. Bresson (and Ozu) take a different approach. They regard, and ask us to regard along with them, and to arrive at conclusions about their characters that are our own. This is the cinema of empathy. ~ Roger Ebert

Gregorius was never to forget this scene. They were his first Portuguese words in the real world and they worked. That words could cause something in the world, make someone move or stop, laugh or cry: even as a child he had found it enigmatic and it had never stopped impressing him. How did words do that? Wasn't it like magic?But at this moment, the mystery seemed greater than usual, for these were words he hadn't even known yesterday morning. ~ Pascal Mercier

Whether we laugh or cry, the days are going to pass by. So why not choose to laugh? ~ Mata Amritanandamayi

Acting is like free therapy! Trying to make people laugh or cry can be inspiring. ~ Julianne Hough

Tomorrow I'm going to destroy you. I'm going to mark your body and ruin your mind. By noon, you won't know whether to laugh or cry. But tonight? Tonight I will revere you. I will build an altar of myself. I will frame you in stars. ~ C.D. Reiss

Stories. Character. Dialouge. Entire worlds created on the page. Worlds that could sweep you away or frighten you, make you laugh or cry. Worlds that allowed you to escape to another country or time. Worlds built piece by piece of ink and punctuation. ~ Jamie Michaels

I remember once, years ago, I met Sting, and he told me that he had seen 'Spinal Tap' 50 times. He said: 'Every time I watch it, I don't know whether to laugh or cry.' ~ Rob Reiner

So in sum, what are we? We are the creatures that know and know too much. That leaves us with such a burden again we have a choice, to laugh or cry. No other animal does either. We do, depending on the season and the need. ~ Ray Bradbury

Sex makes bumble-tongued fools even out of the most eloquent, but the beauty of it is that it also tunes our ears to hear the meaning of words that, spoken under other circumstances, would make us laugh or cry or frown. ~ Megan Hart

You digest and absorb your life by turning it into stories,' he says, 'the same way this theater seems to digest people.' With one hand, he points to a carpet stain, this dark stain sticky and growing mold, branched with arms and legs.
Other events - the ones you can't digest - they poison you. Those worst parts of your life, those moments you can't talk about, they rot you from the inside out. Until you're Cassandra's wet shadow on the ground. Sunk in your own yellow protein mud.
But the stories that you can digest, that you can tell - you can take control of those past moments. You can shape them, craft them. Master them. And use them to your own good. Those are stories as important as food. Those are stories you can use to make people laugh or cry or sick. Or scared. To make people feel the way you felt. To help exhaust that past moment for them and for you. Until that moment is dead.
Consumed. Digested. Absorbed. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Life ... is never the way one imagines it. It surprises you, it amazes you, and it makes you laugh or cry when you don't expect it. ~ Niki De Saint Phalle

IT'S THE EXPRESSION ON THEIR LITTLE FACES I LIKE, said the Hogfather.
"You mean sort of fear and awe and not knowing whether to laugh or cry or wet their pants?"
YES. NOW THAT IS WHAT I CALL BELIEF. ~ Terry Pratchett

That words could cause something in the world, make someone move or stop, laugh or cry: even as a child he had found it extraordinary and it never stopped impressing him. How did words do that? Wasn't it like magic? ~ Pascal Mercier

You know what you need?" Giguhl said. I raised a brow, bracing myself for a punch line. "A to-do list. Might help you keep track of all the beings who want you dead and the satanic birdlife you've kidnapped."
I imagined a list in my head:
1. Perform voodoo ritual on evil owl.
2. Find out who sold us out to the anachronistic Caste vampires.
3. Make amends with a lesbian werewolf.
4. Rescue twin.
5. Murder grandmother.
I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "Yeah, I'll get right on that."
Gighul heard the sarcasm. "Suit yourself, but don't come crying to me if you forget who you're supposed to kill when. ~ Jaye Wells

Jaenelle opened her mouth, closed it, and finally said timidly, "Do you think, when I'm grown up, I could wear an outfit like that?" Daemon bit his cheek. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Buying time, he looked down at himself. "Well," he said, giving it slow consideration, "the shirt would have to be altered somewhat to accommodate a female figure, but I don't see why not." Jaenelle beamed. "Daemon, it's a wonderful hat." It took him a moment to admit it to himself, but he was miffed. He stood in front of her, on display as it were, and the thing that fascinated her most was his hat. You do know how to bruise a man's ego, don't you, little one? he thought dryly as he said, "Would you like to try it on?" Jaenelle bounced to the mirror, brushing against him as she passed. ~ Anne Bishop

I grew up with classical music when I was a ballet dancer. Now when I have to prepare an emotional scene, to cry or whatever, I listen to sonatas. Vivaldi and stuff. It's just beautiful to me. ~ Diane Kruger

At its best fashion is a game. But for women it's a compulsory game, like net ball, and you can't get out of it by faking your period. I know I have tried. And so for a woman every outfit is a hopeful spell, cast to influence the outcome of the day. An act of trying to predict your fate, like looking at your horoscope. No wonder there are so many fashion magazines. No wonder the fashion industry is worth an estimated 900 billion dollars a year. No wonder every woman's first thought is, for nearly every event in her life, be it work, snow or birth. The semi-despairing cry of "but what will I wear?" Because when a woman says I have nothing to wear, what she really means is there is nothing here for who I am supposed to be today. ~ Caitlin Moran

Emphasis on the common emotive or affective origins of music and words in the first cries of humankind undermines words. ~ Jean-Philippe Rameau

I think people like him think work is supposed to be drudgery punctuated by very occasional moments of happiness, but when I say happiness, I mostly mean distraction. You know what I mean?"
"No, please elaborate."
"Okay, say you go into the break room," she said, "and a couple people you like are there, say someone's telling
a funny story, you laugh a little, you feel included, everyone's so funny, you go back to your desk with a sort of,
I don't know, I guess afterglow would be the word? You go back to your desk with an afterglow, but then by four or
five o'clock the day's just turned into yet another day, and you go on like that, looking forward to five o'clock and
then the weekend and then your two or three annual weeks of paid vacation time, day in day out, and that's what happens to your life."
"Right," Clark said. He was filled in that moment with an inexpressible longing. The previous day he'd gone into the break room and spent
five minutes laughing at a colleague's impression of a Daily Show bit.
"That's what passes for a life, I should say. That's what passes for
happiness, for most people. Guys like Dan, they're like sleepwalkers," she said, "and nothing ever jolts them awake. ~ Emily St. John Mandel

He took a deep breath. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. I don't know if I'm supposed to distract you. If I'm supposed to make you laugh, or if I'm supposed to be reassuring you. I have no idea what to do, so all I'm doing is just being here. ~ Tijan

They're not tourists, either, they're nothing like the gawkers and brayers in a place like Times Square, but they don't live here, they live in Jersey or Westchester, they're burghers right out of seventeenth-century Amsterdam, they cross Broadway as if they fucking own it, they think they look rakish, they think they're creatures of the night, they have neighbors whom they consider burghers because they don't like driving in New York, because they'd rather stay home (right now, the woman in the fringed pashmina shawl, the one walking arm-in-arm with Cowboy Boots, explodes in laughter, a great smacking hoot of a laugh, a three-martinis laugh, audible for a block or so), while the residents of downtown Manhattan, the ones who survive the days here, walk more modestly, certainly more quietly, more like penitents, because it's almost impossible to maintain a sense of hubris when you live here, you're too constantly confronted by the rampant otherness of others; hubris is surely much more attainable when you've got a house and a lawn and an Audi, when you understand that at the end of the world you'll get a second's more existence because the bomb won't be aimed at you, the shock wave will take you out but you're not anybody's main target, you've removed yourself from the kill zone, no one gets shot where you live, no one gets stabbed by a random psychopath, the biggest threat to your personal, ongoing security is the possibility that the neighbor's son will break in and steal a ~ Michael Cunningham

It is said in those districts that not all the trains which run on the city's tracks are listed in Metropolitan Transit's compendious schedule. The residents will tell you that after midnight, on some nights, there will be other trains, trains whose cry is different, the bellow of some great beast fighting for its life. And if you watch those trains go past, behind those bright flickering windows you will see passengers unlike any passengers you have seen when riding the trains yourself: men with wings, women with horns, beast-headed children, fauns and dryads and green-skinned people more beautiful than words can describe. In 1893, a schoolteacher swore that she saw a unicorn; in 1934, a murderer turned himself into the police, weeping, saying that he saw his victims staring at him from a train as it howled past the station platform on which he stood.
These are the seraphic trains. The stories say they run to Heaven, Hell, and Faërie. They are omens, but no one can agree on what they portend. And although you will never meet anyone who has seen or experienced it, there are persistent rumors, unkillable rumors, that sometimes, maybe once a century, maybe twice, a seraphic train will stop in its baying progress and open its doors for a mortal.
Those who know the story of Thomas the Rhymer - and even some who don't - insist that all these people, blest or damned as they may be, must be poets. ~ Sarah Monette

Sometimes I hear Mark laugh, and some days in the car the right song will come on the satellite radio and I'll feel him there tingling like a phantom limb. Like he's sitting there next to me in the dark. But I know that's not so. And I know that when you die there's not even darkness, and I know Mark and me won't meet on some cloud or in some pit of fire. And I guess that's a good thing. I couldn't take those eyes seeing what's become of me, those eyes looking down at my hands and my chewed-up ragged nails. ~ Jordan Harper

Who"

The month of flowering's finished. The fruit's in,
Eaten or rotten. I am all mouth.
October's the month for storage.

The shed's fusty as a mummy's stomach:
Old tools, handles and rusty tusks.
I am at home here among the dead heads.

Let me sit in a flowerpot,
The spiders won't notice.
My heart is a stopped geranium.

If only the wind would leave my lungs alone.
Dogsbody noses the petals. They bloom upside down.
They rattle like hydrangea bushes.

Mouldering heads console me,
Nailed to the rafters yesterday:
Inmates who don't hibernate.

Cabbageheads: wormy purple, silver-glaze,
A dressing of mule ears, mothy pelts, but green-hearted,
Their veins white as porkfat.

O the beauty of usage!
The orange pumpkins have no eyes.
These halls are full of women who think they are birds.

This is a dull school.
I am a root, a stone, an owl pellet,
Without dreams of any sort.

Mother, you are the one mouth
I would be a tongue to. Mother of otherness
Eat me. Wastebasket gaper, shadow of doorways.

I said: I must remember this, being small.
There were such enormous flowers,
Purple and red mouths, utterly lovely.

The hoops of blackberry stems made me cry.
Now they light me up like an electric bulb.
For weeks I can remember nothing at all. ~ Sylvia Plath

Which is just grief, I guess. I've decided that grief is like a newborn baby. It knocks you for six. It takes over your brain with its incessant cry. It stops you sleeping or eating or functioning, and everyone says, "Hang in there, it gets easier." What they don't say is, "Two years on, you'll think it's got easier, but then, out of the blue, you'll hear a certain tune in the supermarket and start sobbing. ~ Sophie Kinsella

I'm find," her voice squeaked out. Remembering the maggots-and not one hundred percent sure the ghost had taken them with her-Kylie leapt up, yanked the covers off the bed, and tossed them on the floor, she backed away from the pile of bedding.
"Yeah. You look just fine," Della said sarcastically.
Kylie jumped from foot to foot and brushed off imaginary maggots that she felt crawling on her skin.
Della stood there in Mickey Mouse pajamas, staring at her as if she didn't' know whether to laugh or run.
Kylie stopped dancing and tried to breathe normally. "If I die, promise me I'll be cremated."
Della frowned. "Die?"
"Not that I'm planning to die anytime soon." She gave her arm one more swipe. "But still."
Della shook her head. "I don't know why you pretend you're okay. ~ C.C. Hunter

I had grown weary of so many rules. That's the thing about every discipline. There's often a format, a belief that if you don't follow the structure to the tiniest detail, you won't get the maximum value: mantras are private. Om is the most perfect sound in the universe. Never lay a sacred text to chant on the floor. If you are in a seminar, always wear a name tag. Put your name in the upper right hand corner of every essay. Just breathe. No, scream. No, cry or hit something. But don't lose yourself. Never do yoga on the full moon. Walk clockwise around a temple. Don't eat protein and starch in the same meal. Always begin the day with fruit. Don't eat any fruit. Never utter the word of G_d. There is no God. There are multiple gods. To be a good acupuncturist, "check your stuff" at the door. Bring all of you. Never do work on the Sabbath. Don't cary anything in your pockets. Consciousness is constant work. Accept Jesus. Read the Bible. There is no suffering. Acknowledge suffering as a noble truth. Tread lightly on the Earth. Leave no trace. Make your mark. Get noticed. Travel silently through life. Attend to the needs of others. Follow your bliss. Suppress. Express. Withhold. Let go. Let it in. Get off the grid. Join the marketplace. Go toward the light. Hadn't I heard enough? ~ Megan Griswold

In the most basic terms it was about how when we experience art without critical awareness we consent to the ideas being promoted, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the filmmaker. For instance, if you watch a racist comedian and laugh at his jokes, you are consenting to the prejudices inherent within them. Similarly, if you watch a movie which perpetuates conventional ideas about race, gender, etc., you are consenting to them and not affecting change in any way. ~ Simon Pegg

All that means is that something devastating can happen to you today or to your family & all you can do is cry about it or panic or just be grief-stricken about it; but a year or two from now or maybe ten years from now, or maybe two months or two days, you might be able to see the humor in that problem. ~ Robert Orben

When you say a friend has a sense of humor do you mean that he makes you laugh, or that he can make you laugh? ~ Max Frisch

I think he painted the way he did," I answered, "because he had something perfect with Diana."
I braced myself for her next scathing insight and nearly fell over when she reached out to pat my hand. Her wedding ring was a heavy,hammered gold band that could probably pound nails.
"Nothing but the occasional espresso is perfect," she said, not unkindly. "Let me share some wisdom, Willing Girl. Relationships are like Whack-a-Mole. You squash one annoying deformity and another one pops up in no time."
Not your classic sentiment, there. Or a particularly heartening one. It seemed well meant, though, so I figured it might be a good time to inform her, "Um, my name....is Ella. Marino."
"Oh,I know who you are, Miss Marino," she shot back. "Shall I mention again that the Willing Foundation doesn't?"
"No,Dr. Rothaus," I said meekly. "No need."
"Excellent." Dr. Rothaus headed for the door. "You may call me Maxine. Good luck finding something I haven't. And don't cry on the materials. ~ Melissa Jensen

At present men make shift to wear what they can get. Like shipwrecked sailors, they put on what they can find on the beach, and at a little distance, whether of space or time, laugh at each other's masquerade. ~ Henry David Thoreau

We're all broken in some way. Maybe a little maybe a lot. Life bends us, shapes us, molds us, makes us, breaks us. Not a damn thing for us to be ashamed of, but it's something we need to come to grips with. No need to cry about it, mope about it, be pissed about it, holler about it, moan and groan about it. It's something we face and deal with. Because whether we like it or not, whether we realize it or not, want it or not, we have to take responsibility for who we are ~ Lucian Bane

Even if Megan imagines differently, she [Jennifer] is not the tragic figure. Tommy is. Tommy always was. Nobody saw the tragedy in being the practical one. He was the one who fell painfully short of his potential, the one who even as he let his business flounder and drank too much and showed up late, continued to be though of as a *really great guy.* And he was a really great guy. ... And other people say that, the way he looked at her and all those other things. And so she was the villain. She was the one who didn't laugh at his joke, or looked pained when he gave in to the call to stay for another. She was the one who wanted to leave the party; he was the one who kept it going. The one who wants to leave the party is never the favored one. ~ Leah Stewart

Carry me back to land, Goldilocks, or cry havoc and let loose the slithering Dobermans of war! ~ Jennifer Fales

I don't cry at books or movies. Ever. So imagine my shock and awe when I read 'The Time Traveler's Wife' for the second time, and I knew the ending, and I started to cry. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Not being able to talk sucks. There's no doubt about that. There's a lot of times when I almost feel like I'm trapped inside of myself. Like if I don't talk or yell or scream or laugh I'm going to explode. A lot of the time it almost feels like I'm suffocating. ~ Keary Taylor

Life does have its twists and turns, and that certainly is true. However, one can predict the future with some degree of accuracy based on one's own knowledge of past events. And rare events do occur , but it is their lack of repetition that makes them rare.
I cannot alter the past, but the future is very much in my hands
I find that memories, especially from one's childhood, very often do not live up to the realities
Does anyone truly understand females? the more I am in their company the less i know. Their behavior is the opposite of everything in the natural order and flies in the face of logic.
Oh, I can see you are enjoying yourself. You have my heart, and now you will toy with it
She did believe that two souls could come together, so that the one would know if something had happened to the other despite distance or war.
The only way to get through life's rough spots is to laugh whenever possible ~ Mary Lydon Simonsen

Whore!" he snarls, slamming me into the wall so hard stars burst in my eyes. I hiss at him, the tiger in me threatening to emerge and rip out his throat, but a shout brings me back to myself.
"Zahra!"
I turn my head and see Aladdin running toward us. When he sees that it's Darian holding me roughly against the wall, his face twists into such rage that he seems unrecognizable.
He crashes into Darian before the prince has a chance to say anything. The two slam into the ground, Aladdin throwing a punch that cracks against Darian's jaw.
"Stop it!" I cry. "Prince Rahzad!"
The boys ignore me, rolling and thrashing like dogs.
Leave them! Zhian roars. Let me out!
"How dare you touch her?" Aladdin spits, grabbing Darian by the hair and pressing the prince's face into the stone floor. "You bastard!"
"I didn't give her anything she didn't ask for," Darian hisses back. "Get off me or I'll have you executed! ~ Jessica Khoury

The whole point of Heaven is to relieve us of the suffering, pain, death and tears brought into the world by the evil of humanity. That is why God says that in Heaven there will be no more sorrow, pain, death or crying. ~ David Berg

What would you think of an engineer who expounded the art of flying without revealing the secrets of the engine and propeller? That's what you do, you engineer of the human soul. Just that. You're a coward. You want the raisins out of my cake but you don't want the thorns of my roses. Haven't you too, little psychiatrist, been cracking silly jokes about me? Haven't you ridiculed me as "the prophet of bigger and better orgasms"? Have you never heard the whimpering of a young wife whose body has been desecrated by an impotent husband? Or the anguished cry of an adolescent bursting with unfulfilled love? Does your security still mean more to you than your patient? How long will you go on valuing your respectability above your medical mission? How long will you refuse to see that your pussyfooting procrastination is costing millions their lives? ~ Wilhelm Reich

Our lips just trespassed on those inner labyrinths hidden deep within our ears, filled them with the private music of wicked words, hers in many languages, mine in the off color of my own tongue, until as our tones shifted, and our consonants spun and squealed, rattled faster, hesitated, raced harder, syllables soon melting with groans, or moans finding purchase in new words, or old words, or made-up words, until we gathered up our heat and refused to release it, enjoying too much the dark language we had suddenly stumbled upon, craved to, carved to, not a communication really but a channeling of our rumored desires, hers for all I know gone to Black Forests and wolves, mine banging back to a familiar form, that great revenant mystery I still could only hear the shape of, which in spite of our separate lusts and individual cries still continued to drive us deeper into stranger tones, our mutual desire to keep gripping the burn fueled by sound, hers screeching, mine – I didn't hear mine – only hears, probably counter-pointing mine, a high-pitched cry, then a whisper dropping unexpectedly to practically a bark, a grunt, whatever, no sense any more, and suddenly no more curves either, just the straight away, some line crossed, where every fractured sound already spoken finally compacts into one long agonizing word, easily exceeding a hundred letters, even thunder, anticipating the inevitable letting go, when the heat is ultimately too much to bear, threatening to burn, scar, tea ~ Mark Z. Danielewski

Death is always death, and in real life, especially in the world of the hospital, sudden death, whether violent and gruesome or unbelievably prosaic, is unsettling. What can one do? Go home, love your children, try not to bicker, eat well, walk in the rain, feel the sun on your face, and laugh loud and often, as much as possible, and especially at yourself. Because the antidote to death is not poetry, or miracle treatments, or a roomful of people with technical expertise and good intentions - the antidote to death is life. ~ Theresa Brown

The joy of the Lord is my strength, knowing that He is with me, knowing that He will never leave me, knowing that He is bigger than any circumstance, and that He loves us. It's not about Nick being happy but Nick's trust in God. It is not that everything is going smoothly. It is not that Nick never cries or Nick is never fearful anymore. ~ Nick Vujicic

But it was not merely her choice to be a witness of the dirty work on Tier 1A. It was her role. As a woman she was not expected to wrestle prisoners into stress positions or otherwise overpower them, but rather just by her presence, to amplify their sense of powerlessness. She was there as an instrument of humiliation...The MPs knew very little about their prisoners or the culture they came from, and they understood less. But at Fort Lee, before they deployed, they were given a session of "cultural awareness training," from which they'd taken away the understanding - constantly reinforced by MI handlers - that Arab men were sexual prudes, with a particular hang-up about being seen naked in public, especially by women. What better way to break an Arab, then, than to strip him, tie him up, and have a "female bystander," as Graner describer Harman, laugh at him? American women were used on the MI block in the same way that Major David DiNenna spoke of dogs - as "force multipliers." Harman understood. She didn't like being naked in public herself. To the prisoners, being photographed may have seemed an added dash of mortification, but to Harman, taking pictures was a way of deflecting her own humiliation in the transaction - by taking ownership of her position as spectator. ~ Philip Gourevitch

On my Superwoman channel, I am more of a performer, I am aiming to make you guys laugh. With vlogs, it's just me and my day, boring or fun. ~ Lilly Singh

No matter how much time passes, or how many times you cry about it, losing a dog is almost as hard as living without him would have been. ~ Beth Hading-Yostlot

I select the right practice gun, the one about the size of a pistol, but bulkier, and offer it to Caleb.
Tris's fingers slide between mine. Everything comes easily this morning, every smile and every laugh, every word and every motion.
If we succeed in what we attempt tonight, tomorrow Chicago will be safe, the Bureau will be forever changed, and Tris and I will be able to build a new life for ourselves somewhere. Maybe it will even be a place where I trade my guns and knives for more productive tools, screwdrivers and nails and shovels. This morning I feel like I could be so fortunate. I could.
"It doesn't shoot real bullets," I say, "but it seems like they designed it so it would be as close as possible to one of the guns you'll be using. It feels real, anyway."
Caleb holds the gun with just his fingertips, like he's afraid it will shatter in his hands.
I laugh. "First lesson: Don't be afraid of it. Grab it. You've held one before, remember? You got us out of the Amity compound with that shot."
"That was just lucky," Caleb says, turning the gun over and over to see it from every angle. His tongue pushes into his cheek like he's solving a problem. "Not the result of skill."
"Lucky is better than unlucky," I say. "We can work on skill now."
I glance at Tris. She grins at me, then leans in to whisper something to Christina.
"Are you here to help or what, Stiff?" I say. I hear myself speaking in the voice I cultivated as an initiatio ~ Veronica Roth

When you're starting out as an actor, you keep raising the stakes. First, you just want to be a character who comes on stage and gets a laugh or two and exits. Just five minutes on a stage, not even Broadway. But every time you say your little prayer at night, you place more demands. ~ Charles Kimbrough

But my whole body is one pain. I cannot stand on my legs anymore. I stagger. I fall back on my bed. My eyes close and fill with smarting tears. I want to be crucified on the wall, but I cannot. My body becomes heavier and heavier and filled with sharper pain. My flesh is enraged against me.
I hear voices through the wall. The next room vibrates with a distant sound, a mist of sound which scarcely comes through the wall.
I shall not be able to listen anymore, or look into the room, or hear anything distinctly. And I, who have not cried since my childhood, I cry now like a child because of all that I shall never have. I cry over lost beauty and grandeur. I love everything that I should have embraced. ~ Henri Barbusse

Your name. That's all I want. I debate on whether or not I should explain to him that my name isn't going to help him in his stalking endeavours. ~ Colleen Hoover

Because the Legs wasn't fearful of heights or swimming in rough water or Death itself she wasn't afraid to risk making a fool of herself. Maybe you think that's something of no consequence but it isn't - for making a fool of yourself, offering yourself to others to laugh at, to jeer, that takes guts. ~ Joyce Carol Oates

I didn't have much notice, either, and you don't see me stomping about or trying to encourage people to faint or cry." Oh, she likely shouldn't have said that, either.
"Ye've a slightly better hold of yer temper than Coll does."
"A dragon would seem to have an easier temper than your brother," she blurted, then put a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her tonight?
He snorted. "I cannae argue with that. ~ Suzanne Enoch

We're all on our own, aren't we? That's what it boils down to.

We come into this world on our own- in Hawaii, as I did, or New York, or China, or Africa or Montana- and we leave it in the same way, on our own, wherever we happen to be at the time- in a plane, in our beds, in a car, in a space shuttle, or in a field of flowers.

And between those times, we try to connect along the way with others who are also on their own.

If we're lucky, we have a mother who reads to us.

We have a teacher or two along the way who make us feel special.

We have dogs who do the stupid dog tricks we teach them and who lie on our bed when we're not looking, because it smells like us, and so we pretend not to notice the paw prints on the bedspread.

We have friends who lend us their favorite books.

Maybe we have children, and grandchildren, and funny mailmen and eccentric great-aunts, and uncles who can pull pennies out of their ears.

All of them teach us stuff. They teach us about combustion engines and the major products of Bolivia, and what poems are not boring, and how to be kind to each other, and how to laugh, and when the vigil is in our hands, and when we have to make the best of things even though it's hard sometimes.

Looking back together, telling our stories to one another, we learn how to be on our own. ~ Lois Lowry

I usually make it a point not to cry in front of people, especially hot boys that I'd been totally crushing on before they'd tried to choke me.
But for some reason, hearing that there was yet another thing I didn't know just sent me right on over the edge.
Archer,to his credit, didn't look exactly horrified by my sobbing, and he even reached out like he might grab hold of my shoulders.Or possibly smack me.
But before he could either comfort me or commit further acts of violence upon my person,I spun away from him and made my drama queen moment complete by running away.
It wasn't pretty. ~ Rachel Hawkins

She poured out Swann's tea, inquired "Lemon or cream?" and, on his answering "Cream, please," said to him with a laugh: "A cloud!" And as he pronounced it excellent, "You see, I know just how you like it." This tea had indeed seemed to Swann, just as it seemed to her; something precious, and love has such a need to find some justification for itself, some guarantee of duration, in pleasures which without it would have no existence and must cease with its passing. ~ Marcel Proust

Can I cuddle up with you when you sleep?"

Sma stopped, detached the creature from her shoulder with one hand and stared it in the face. "What?"

"Just for chumminess' sake," the little thing said, yawning wide and blinking. "I'm not being rude; it's a good bonding procedure."

Sma was aware of Skaffen-Amtiskaw glowing red just behind her. She brought the yellow and brown device closer to her face. "Listen, Xenophobe - "

"Xeny."

"Xeny. You are a million-ton starship. A Torturer class Rapid Offensive Unit. Even - "

"But I'm demilitarized!"

"Even without your principle armament, I bet you could waste planets if you wanted to - "

"Aw, come on; any silly GCU can do that!"

"So what's all this shit for?" She shook the furry little remote drone, quite hard. Its teeth chattered.

"It's for a laugh!" it cried. "Sma, don't you appreciate a joke?"

"I don't know. Do you appreciate being drop-kicked back to the accommodation area?"

"Ooh! What's your problem, lady? Have you got something against small furry animals, or what?" Look Ms. Sma, I know very well I'm a ship, and I do everything I'm asked to do - including taking you to this frankly rather fuzzily specified destination - and do it very efficiently, too. If there was the slightest sniff of any real action, and I had to start acting like a warship, this construct in your hands would go lifeless ~ Iain M. Banks

I really like to watch a porn, but mostly my dream is to fuck a woman. It's interesting to see how her lips touch your dick, I'm sure that the feeling, incrediable. But this isn't anything with she to have orgasm! To watch you right in the face, right in the eyes is interesting and not freaky, but it's more awesome to be such position to be in orgasm + to suck your cock gently. It's interesting, how woman watch the end proccess of jerk off, how they lick the dick like it's hot and they want to make it cold!
Ooh, that's one of my favourite faces how the sperm from the dick goes right on the face. It's really interesting the dick to be more large and big from a woman foot and hands, even from her mouth that's one of my favourite parts in the porn. It's interesting to look the dick like a pussy cat or more awesome the dick to goes slowly in the pussy! When a woman is getting fucked she to laugh that's the interesting part. ~ Deyth Banger

If I'm dead right now, I know it was at your hand. No one else in heaven or hell had power over me. Please don't cry, I was dead before I met you, I was born the day you loved me, and my love for you will keep me alive.. Forever. ~ Unknown

One of the reasons I sing so much about smoking or drinking isn't about the addiction, but more so that I'm trying to let people have a good time at my shows and forget their problems. Relax and enjoy. There's not certain religions or politics sold on them. Just come out, have a beer, have a laugh, good energy from stage and have a good time. ~ Hank Williams III

They ended every speech with the word hiro, which means: like I said. Thus each man took responsibility for intruding into the inarticulate murmur of the spheres. To hiro they added the word koue, a cry of joy or distress, according to whether it was sung or howled. Thus they essayed to piece the mysterious curtain which hangs between all talking men: at the end of every utterance a man stepped back, so to speak, and attempted to interpret his words to the listener, attempted to subvert the beguiling intellect with the noise of true emotion. ~ Leonard Cohen

No one really knew who (or what) the Curator actually was, nor could anyone guess as to where he came from or why he stood guard over this gate. He was like the rainclouds outside or the sun behind them: you didn't question where they came from or what they were doing, simply because they had always been there. Some of the more sociable Genshwin had tried several times to wring some interesting answers out of him, but no one had ever been able to get past his enigmatic grin.
It made Rachel uncomfortable. As a youth, she had often tried to provoke him to anger without success. He would just laugh and shake his head at her like a patient father ignoring a petulant child. He was too patient, and she resented that; he was intentionally cryptic and she hated him for it. And the Curator knew it, too. ~ S.G. Night

Have you ever done anything in your life without wondering how it looked to someone else? Do you know what it is to do something as simple as genuinely smile or laugh without trying to see it through another person's eyes? I feel exhausted for you. ~ Hope Denney

We laugh at a man who, stepping out of his room at the very minute when the sun is rising, says, "It is my will that the sun shall rise"; or at him who, unable to stop a wheel, says, "I wish it to roll"; or, again, at him who, thrown in a wrestling match, says, "Here I lie, but here I wish to lie." But, joking apart, do we not act like one of these three persons whenever we use the expression "I wish"? ~ Friedrich Nietzsche