No I M Not Crying You Are Quotes

Once this is all over, we'll be a proper family, you'll see. ~ J.K. Rowling

I turned toward her with red, puffy eyes. Her own eyes widened with concern, and she froze as she watched me walk into the kitchen, like she was waiting for me to crumple onto the floor and shatter into pieces.

"I'm fine," I said. "It's an emotional book. I'm just getting a glass of water." I reached for the tequila.

She got up and followed me into the kitchen. "That's not water."

"And?"

"It's ten a.m."

"And?"

"You look like you've been crying for an hour straight . . . and you're hitting the hard stuff at - and I repeat - ten a.m."

"Cara, you have the most amazing powers of perception." I looked at the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, shrugged, set the glass down, and headed back to my room with the bottle only.

"I'm worried about you," Cara called out as I walked away.

"I'm fine. Just gonna sit in here, read, and have myself a little mental health day." I turned and smiled and then locked myself in my room.

"Mental health days don't usually involve tequila at ten a.m.!" she yelled through the door.

"I'm fine! ~ Renee Carlino

I want to see the Parthenon by moonlight.'

I had my way. They floodlight it now, to great advantage I am told, but it was not so then, and since it was late in the year there were few tourists. My companions were all intelligent men, including my own husband, and they had the sense to stay mute. I suppose, being a woman, I confuse beauty with sentiment, but, as I looked on the Parthenon for the first time in my life, I found myself crying. It had never happened to me before. Your sunset weepers I despise. It was not full moon, or anywhere near it. The half circle put me in mind of the labrys, the Cretan double axe, and the pillars were the most ghostly in consequence. What a shock for the modern aesthete, I thought when my crying was done, if he could see the ruddy glow of colour, the painted eyes, the garish lips, the orange-reds and blues that were there once, and Athene herself a giantess on her pedestal touched by the rising sun. Even in those distant times the exigencies of a state religion had brought their own traffic, the buying and selling of doves, of trinkets: to find himself, a man had to go to the woods, to the hills.

"Come on," said Stephen. "It's beautiful and stark, if you like, but so is St. Pancras station at 4 A.M. It depends on your association of ideas."

We crammed into Burns's small car, and went back to our hotel. ("The Chamois") ~ Daphne Du Maurier

Clean your tears and stop crying; you are not the only one with a broken heart. ~ M.F. Moonzajer

You have broken my heart
I am a little kid,
I cannot stop crying
I hit my feet to the ground and my hands to my head
Like a fly
I cannot get up from the sticky ground
I cannot talk about you
Because it hurts
I feel the pain inside my bones
I cannot forget you
The reality has become dream and dream has become nightmare
These are my tears
They are not my sweats
I have not pissed on myself
Every drop carries pain and regret
They are all because of you,
You broke my virgin heart and poor soul,
I thought we belonged with each other
We shared dreams and wishes
We shared love and devotion
I did not know they were all lies,
If I knew you were leaving me one day, I would have loved you more than I did
Maybe it would have changed your mind
Because I still love you ~ M.F. Moonzajer

That was the week you learned that the killers of Michael Brown would go free. The men who had left his body in the street like some awesome declaration of their inviolable power would never be punished. It was not my expectation that anyone would ever be punished. But you were young and still believed. You stayed up till 11 P.M. that night, waiting for the announcement of an indictment, and when instead it was announced that there was none you said, "I've got to go," and you went into your room, and I heard you crying. I came in five minutes after, and I didn't hug you, and I didn't comfort you, because I thought it would be wrong to comfort you. ~ Ta-Nehisi Coates

Prince, cast aside these Foreign Airs, which don't speak, 'cept to the Head," said I (without Thought, but only Combustion of the Tongue), crying, "Poor timid Creature, cast them aside, and instead play the Simple Things in your HEART!"
He replied, "What is in my Heart is not simple."
& I says, "Then you han't listened."
& He says, "I listen, & cannot understand its Speech."
& I says, "Then it ain't your Heart you hear."
"The Human Heart," recited he bitterly as if from some damp Lesson, "is a Muscle that operates through Constriction." His Work on the Oysters grew defiant. "I have seen a Heart lying on a Plate, jolted with Electricity. It had as much to say dead as alive."
Now I was terrified at his Past & his Secrets & I asked for no more Music. ~ M T Anderson

I went on writing reviews for the newspaper, and critical articles crying out for a different approach to culture, as even the most inattentive reader could hardly fail to notice if he scratched the surface a little, critical articles crying out, indeed begging, for a return to the Greek and Latin greats, to the Troubadours, to the dolce stil nuovo and the classics of Spain, France and England, more culture! more culture! read Whitman and Pound and Eliot, read Neruda and Borges and Vallejo, read Victor Hugo, for God's sake, and Tolstoy, and proudly I cried myself hoarse in the desert, but my vociferations and on occasions my howling could only be heard by those who were able to scratch the surface of my writings with the nails of their index fingers, and they were not many, but enough for me, and life went on and on and on, like a necklace of rice grains, on each grain of which a landscape had been painted, tiny grains and microscopic landscapes, and I knew that everyone was putting that necklace on and wearing it, but no one had the patience or the strength or the courage to take it off and look at it closely and decipher each landscape grain by grain, partly because to do so required the vision of a lynx or an eagle, and partly because the landscapes usually turned out to contain unpleasant surprises like coffins, makeshift cemeteries, ghost towns, the void and the horror, the smallness of being and its ridiculous will, people watching television, people going to football m ~ Roberto Bolano

Then why are you crying, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile, callous. "I'm not. My eyes are urinating, so fuck you! ~ K.M. Golland

Paint me a small railroad station then, ten minutes before dark. Beyond the platform are the waters of the Wekonsett River, reflecting a somber afterglow. The architecture of the station is oddly informal, gloomy but unserious, and mostly resembles a pergola, cottage or summer house although this is a climate of harsh winters. The lamps along the platform burn with a nearly palpable plaintiveness. The setting seems in some way to be at the heart of the matter. We travel by plane, oftener than not, and yet the spirit of our country seems to have remained a country of railroads. You wake in a pullman bedroom at three a.m. in a city the name of which you do not know and may never discover. A man stands on the platform with a child on his shoulders. They are waving goodbye to some traveler, but what is the child doing up so late and why is the man crying? On a siding beside the platform there is a lighted dining car where a waiter sits alone at a table, adding up his accounts. Beyond this is a water tower and beyond this a well-lighted and empty street. Then you think happily that this is your country - unique, mysterious and vast. ~ John Cheever

Time is what I'm giving you," he said, staring down at her. His hand curved beneath her chin, compelling her to look at him. "There's only one way for me to prove that I will love you and be faithful to you for the rest of my life. And that's by loving you and being faithful to you for the rest of my life. Even if you don't want me. Even if you choose not to be with me. I'm giving you all the time I have left. I vow to you that from this moment on, I will never touch another woman, or give my heart to anyone but you. If I have to wait sixty years, not a minute will have been wasted- because I'll have spent all of them loving you. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You feel as if you're not living a full life. Which, of course, is why it's my theory about why so many people who are heavily into computers are also into extreme sports and S&M. It's because their bodies are crying out for some kind of action. ~ Brian Eno

But in a way you can say that after leaving the sea, after all those millions of years of living inside of the sea, we took the ocean with us. When a woman makes a baby, she gives it water, inside her body, to grow in. That water inside her body is almost exactly the same as the water of the sea. It is salty, by just the same amount. She makes a little ocean, in her body. And not only this. Our blood and our sweating, they are both salty, almost exactly like the water from the sea is salty. We carry oceans inside of us, in our blood and our sweat. And we are crying the oceans, in our tears. ~ Gregory David Roberts

Every second I spend waiting,
Drags me closer to this grave.
I'm not alone.
No, I'm just on my own. ~ Tegan Quin

You do not reduce or eliminate your concerns by crying, shouting or proving you are the victim of whatever happened in your life. ~ Archibald Marwizi

Pretending not to be hurt is a brave thing to do ... But you know what? Crying is braver. Why? Coz not everyone can accept the fact that ... Not all things are meant for you. ~ Lanie Lane

We seem to live in a world where you have to walk around grinning like a loon. I can't understand all the fuss about Mona Lisa painting, everyone wondering why she's not smiling, if she's depressed or heartbroken. No, she was just normal!
Emotions are always extreme these days: you either have to be crying with laughter or crying in pain. No wonder water levels are rising. It's not global warming, it's all the tears from crying. ~ Karl Pilkington

But we were friends all our childhood, a voice said inside her; and that other voice answered coldly, Friends are whom you choose, not the people forced on you by circumstances. And yet she was nearly crying with misery and humiliation and friendlessness, in the hot back seat of the car, while grains of sunlight danced through the fractured roof, and stung her flesh like needles. ~ Doris Lessing

I live in tranquility and trembling…there is not a guarantee in the world. Oh, your needs are guaranteed, your needs are absolutely guaranteed by the most stringent of warranties, in the plainest, truest words: knock; seek; ask. But you must read the fine print. "Not as the world giveth, give I unto you." That's the catch. If you can catch it, it will catch you up, aloft, up to any gap at all, and you'll come back, for you will come back transformed in a way you might not have bargained for-dribbling and crazed. The waters of separation, however lightly sprinkled, leave indelible stains. Did you think, before you were caught, that you needed, say, life? Do you think you will keep your life, or anything else you love? But no. Your needs are all met. But not as the world giveth. You see the needs of your own spirit met whenever you have asked, and you have learned that the outrageous guarantee holds. You see the creatures die, and you know you will die. And one day it occurs to you that you must not need life. Obviously. And then you're gone. You have finally understood that you're dealing with a maniac.

I think that the dying pray at the last not "please," but "thank you," as a guest thanks his host at the door. Falling from airplanes the people are crying thank you, thank you. Divinity is not playful. The universe was not made in jest but in solemn incomprehensible earnest. By a power that is unfathomably secret, and holy, and fleet. There is nothing to be done abo ~ Annie Dillard

So we left the spear in the wagon and I dressed and still was not sick and together we walked to the head of the century. Tears had been ready to lead them. Macer was there, holding his horn. I saw them both shrug and get ready to swap Tears' shield for the horn.
'No, stay as you are,' I said. 'It doesn't hurt to have someone else learning the signals. Tears can stay as Macer's shield-man. Taurus, stay with Horgias.'
'And you?' someone asked.
'Don't worry about me.' I grinned, careless of the listening gods. 'I'm indestructible. I'll outlive you all. ~ M.C. Scott

If you`re laughing,you are not crying,even though they look similar.And that works for me. ~ Therese J. Borchard

Why are you crying love?" he asked gently wiping off the tear, and looking at her a little worry evident in his own eyes.

"How? Why?" she whispered not knowing what to say.

"That doesn't matter, all that matter's is that are you happy." he said leading her inside the room.

"Are you happy?"

" I don't know what to say, this is Amazing... ~ Amy Dane

It's not until the tears flood my eyes and drench the pillow that I realize I'm crying. I don't deserve this beautiful man. Because he has opened his soul to me and I'm lying to him. ~ M. Malone

Bible States That Christians Are to be Perfect The Bible says that whoever is born again cannot sin. Yes I m talking about sinless perfection. You need to know who you are in Christ Jesus. Jesus told the women who was caught in adultery to sin no more. He did not say do not commit adultery no more but He said to sin no more and this is Bible Salvation. God would not tell you to do something that you were not capable of doing. God gave you the Holy Spirit Who is sinless to make you sinless.True believers ~ Khurram Aharf

1.The moment you realize that the person you cared for has nothing intellectually or spiritually to offer you, but a headache.

2. The moment you realize God had greater plans for you that don't involve crying at night or sad Pinterest quotes.

3. The moment you stop comparing yourself to others because it undermines your worth, education and your parent's wisdom.

4. The moment you live your dreams, not because of what it will prove or get you, but because that is all you want to do. People's opinions don't matter.

5. The moment you realize that no one is your enemy, except yourself.

6. The moment you realize that you can have everything you want in life. However, it takes timing, the right heart, the right actions, the right passion and a willingness to risk it all. If it is not yours, it is because you really didn't want it, need it or God prevented it.

7. The moment you realize the ghost of your ancestors stood between you and the person you loved. They really don't want you mucking up the family line with someone that acts anything less than honorable.

8. The moment you realize that happiness was never about getting a person. They are only a helpmate towards achieving your life mission.

9. The moment you believe that love is not about losing or winning. It is just a few moments in time, followed by an eternity of situations to grow from.

10. The moment you realize that you ~ Shannon L. Alder

This day,
I want you to question yourself,
"How can the one
Who never understood
The meaning of your words
Can understand
The power of your silence?"

This day,
I want you to question yourself,
"How can the one
Who never stood for you
Can stand with you
In the future?"

This day,
I want you to question yourself,
"How can the one
Who left you in the silence
The one,
Who never calmed you down
The one,
Who said you are not strong
The one,
Who heard your trembling voice,
Saw your crying face
And still left you always…
Will he keep you happy? ~ Jyoti Patel

I love Africa....... Each day each breath, she consumes me. I have never changed so much In such a short time Each day I feel more part of her. Her colour, smell, her smiles , the ever changing landscapes. Vast deserts rolling hills plaines & Mountains. Her beauty and her majesty. Like sweet wine flowing through my veins, my heart sings as I wave to all those faces going by. Back home to my Grandmothers Birth place. They said "welcome home", those village boys. How did they know? You all said I would cry, I thought no, but yes I often do. Not for their pain but for their happiness . I cry now, together hearts will sing ," I love Africa". See her now as I write.. Kilimanjaro , it doesn't get much better .Tears on a hard mans face. There is no time but now , no words just peace. Thousands of smiling faces, the mass of souls are singing out . Yes I see and feel it now.... In those trees I sense the Spirits of our saving , could it be our looking for? Sailing ships a familiar shore, now I'm crying happy and singing . Thoughts intense of please no more. I love Africa. An epiphany I can't explain .Not like the ancient rituals , sound of rain, and men together by campfires. Beginning to end but there really is no such thing as time, just imaginings. We still love sitting by the camp fire and we love listening to the rain? I love Africa the Eden and our Birthplace , Man.
How can I explain to you my friend what I have seen and felt unless you too have seen it all ... Africa. ~ Michael Burke

He found her not even a block away from the house, sitting on a curb.
As he approached, he saw her wiping her face with her forearm.
Sabine was...crying? "What are you doing out here, cwena?" Over the past week, Rydstrom had been pleased when she'd worried about him, and gratified when she'd felt the sting of jealousy. Was he a terrible man to hope she was crying about him?
She glared at him with her bottom lip quivering, allowing him to see her like this instead of using a mask. "I d-don't have anywhere else to g-go." Another swipe of her forearm over her eyes. "Lanthe's gone, and I c-can't get to her for six days. And I'm in a strange t-town and land, and Vrekeners are everywhere."
Sabine hadn't even mentioned what they'd just gone through-
"And you br-broke up with me!" she said, her tears falling faster. "Is that supposed to make me happy?"
"Come inside, Sabine."
"No! You t-told me not to." She sniffled, "You don't want me at your house."
He swooped her up in his arms. "Will you shut up?" With his free hand, he brushed her tears. "I made it ten minutes before I came after you. ~ Kresley Cole

Green-tinted with chlorophyll from crying. "Percy," she sniffled. "I was just asking about Grover. I know something's happened. He wouldn't stay gone this long if he wasn't in trouble. I was hoping that Leneus - " "I told you!" the satyr protested. "You are a better off without that traitor." Juniper stamped her foot. "He is not a traitor! He's the bravest satyr ever, and I want to know where he is!" "WOOF!" Leneus's knees started knocking. "I ... I won't answer questions with this hellhound sniffing my tail!" Nico looked like he was trying to not crack up. "I'll walk the dog," he volunteered. ~ Rick Riordan

I just can't.. m not saying "NO ~ Lovely Goyal

It's not until she sits up and wipes her eyes that I realize she's crying. My words are like knives; they cut into the people I love. It will be worse if you touch her, I think, a worse lie. But I ignore this thought, shifting down the bench to put my arm around her - my daughter - and as I do, she weeps openly, pressing her face against my damp shirt. ~ Adam Haslett

He curled his fingers around the lip of the pot, and under the sick gelding they began a vicious little tug-of-war. He would have laughed, was on the point of it, when he looked at her face and saw that her eyes were wet.
He let go of the pot so abruptly, Keeley fell back on her butt. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"I'm applying a non-irritating blister to a knee spavin.Now go away and let me get on with it.."
"There's no reason to start that up. None at all." Panic jingled straight to his head, nearly made him dizzy. "This is no place for crying."
"I'm upset.It's my stable.I can cry when and where I choose."
"All right,all right,all right." Desperately he dug into his pockets for a bandanna. "Here, just blow your nose or something."
"Just go to hell or something." Rather grandly, she turned her shoulder on him and continued to apply the blister.
"Keeley,I'm sorry." He wasn't sure for exactly what,but that wasn't here nor there. "Dry your eyes now, a ghra, and we'll make this lad comfortable for the night."
"Don't take that placating tone with me. I'm not a child or a sick horse."
Brian dragged his hands through his hair, gave it one good yank. "Which tone would you prefer?"
"An honest one." Satisfied the blister was properly applied,she rose. "But I'm afraid the derisive one you've used since we got here fits that category. In your opinion,I'm spoiled, stubborn and too proud to accept help."
Though the tears appeared ~ Nora Roberts

I'm not crying out for help, but I am sharing my experience in the hopes that readers will get something out of it. I'm not the one who gets to decide what that is, if anything. I'm just starting the "journey" if you will, so I can't possibly know yet what the "message" of my life really is. I only know what has happened so far, and how I've felt up until this moment. I agree that reading about the pain of others is concerning when they are still hurting and in the same situation as when they wrote about it. But what can you do? You can reach out, ask how you can help and be there to listen. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. You can't love someone who doesn't love themselves enough to take care of themselves and stay out of bad situations. Believe me, I know this. ~ Ashly Lorenzana

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday. ~ Mary Schmich

The Nazis knew they were doing wrong, so they hid everything; the Bolsheviks were convinced they were doing right, so they kept everything. Like it or not, you're a Russian historian, a searcher for lost souls, and in Russia the truth is always written not in ink, like in other places, but in innocent blood. These archives are as sacred as Golgotha. In the dry rustle of the files you can hear the crying of children, the shunting of trains, the echo of footsteps down to the cellars, the single shot of the Nagant pistol delivering the seven grams. The very paper smells of blood" (401). ~ Simon Montefiore

Speaking of body decorations, I luuhhhvv your belly piercing!" Heeb said, looking at the gold ring in the center of her slim, tan waist. Despite the artic cold, Angelina had opted for a skin tight, black tube top that ended just above her belly, on the assumption that a warm cab, a winter coat, and a short wait to get into the club was an adequate frosty weather strategy. Heeb was still reverently staring at her belly when Angelina finally caught her breath from laughing.

"Do you really like it? You're just saying that so that you can check out my belly!"

"And what's so bad about that? I mean, didn't you get that belly piercing so that people would check out your belly?"

"No. I just thought it would look cool…Do you have any piercings?"

"Actually, I do," Heeb replied.

"Where?"

"My appendix."

"Huh?"

"I wanted to be the first guy with a pierced organ. And the appendix is a totally useless organ anyway, so I figured why the hell not?"

"That's pretty original," she replied, amused.

"Oh yeah. I've outdone every piercing fanatic out there. The only problem is when I have to go through metal detectors at the airport."

Angelina burst into laughs again, and then managed to say, "Don't you have to take it out occasionally for a cleaning?"

"Nah. I figure I'll just get it removed when my appendix bursts. It'll be a two for one operation, if you know what I m ~ Zack Love

Then you came and I started to feel again. I started to think there was a reason I survived, that you were my reason. But nothing's so simple, is it? I didn't protect you. Here you are hurting so bad, and I can't even help. I'm just here and I need you. That's all it comes to. I need you to be brave when I haven't been. I know how hard it is. Look at me. Look at what's happened to me. Jesus, I feel like I'll be crying for the next century." He bent his head, pressed his tear-wet cheek to her dry cold skin. "But I'm here. I'm not hiding anymore. Princess, I'm asking you. Come back to me. You're my life. ~ Laura Kinsale

But George turned Simon's assumptions on their head on a daily basis. As he was doing right at this moment, wiping away something that looked suspiciously like a tear.
"Are you ... Crying?" Simon asked, Incredulous.
"Of course not." George gave his eyes another furious wipe. "Well, in my defense," he added, sounding only slightly abashed, "death is a terrible thing."
"It's a dead rat," Simon pointed out. "A dead rat in Your Shoe, I might add. ~ Cassandra Clare

Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home, and must look far and wide to find one. Home is the center of my being, where I can hear the voice that says, "You are my beloved. On you my favor rests," the same voice that gave life to the first Adam and spoke to Jesus, the second Adam. The same voice that speaks to all the children of God and sets them free to live in the midst of a dark world while remaining in the light. I have heard that voice. It has spoken to me in the past and continues to speak to me now. It is the never-interrupted voice of love speaking from eternity and giving life and love wherever it is heard. When I hear that voice, I know that I am home with God and have nothing to fear. As the beloved of my heavenly Father, "I can walk in the valley of darkness: no evil would I fear." As the beloved I can "cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils." Having "received without charge," I can "give without charge." As the Beloved, I can confront, console, admonish, and encourage without fear of rejection or need for affirmation. As the Beloved I can suffer persecution without desire for revenge and receive praise without using it as a proof of my goodness. As the Beloved I can be tortured and killed without ever having to doubt that the love that is given to me is stronger than death. As the Beloved I am free to live and give life, free also to die while giving life.
Jesus has made it clear to me that the same voice that h ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

Wait," he said. "Before we leave, can I, um, can I see what you really look like now?"

"Doofus. I look like your sister."

"I know. But there's more now. Right?"

It was a fair question. She said, "Okay. But you have to promise not to freak out. Just remember I'm still me, regardless of what it might look like."

"I promise."

And so it was there, in the reimagined and reconstructed memory of the kitchen she once shared with Ria, that Molly set aside her human form and showed her brother what she had become. The transition went more smoothly than it had in Bayliss's hotel room. She dialed it back when Martin flinched and shielded his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked, momentarily consumed with a vision of bloody tears streaking Bayliss's face.

"Oh, Moll," said Martin. He was crying. Not blood, though. "They turned you into starlight. ~ Ian Tregillis

While I pressed the tissue to my face, Beck said, "Can I tell you something? There are a lot of empty boxes in your head, Sam."
I looked at him, quizzical. Again, it was a strange enough concept to hold my attention.
"There are a lot of empty boxes in there, and you can put things in them." Beck handed me another tissue for the other side of my face.
My trust of Beck at that point was not yet complete; I remember thinking that he was making a very bad joke that I wasn't getting. My voice sounded wary, even to me. "What kinds of things?"
"Sad things," Beck said. "Do you have a lot of sad things in your head?"
"No," I said.
Beck sucked in his lower lip and released it slowly. "Well, I do."
This was shocking. I didn't ask a question, but I tilted toward him.
"And these things would make me cry," Beck continued. "They used to make me cry all day long."
I remembered thinking this was probably a lie. I could not imagine Beck crying. He was a rock. Even then, his fingers braced against the floor, he looked poised, sure, immutable.
"You don't believe me? Ask Ulrik. He had to deal with it," Beck said. "And so you know what I did with those sad things? I put them in boxes. I put the sad things in the boxes in my head, and I closed them up and I put tape on them and I stacked them up in the corner and threw a blanket over them."
"Brain tape?" I suggested, with a little smirk. I was eight, after all.
Beck smiled, a weird private ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Is there anyone out there that is crying alone tonight? Not crying out of pity for something or someone, but instead because they cannot help asking why they are living in the way that they are? Is there anyone that is feeling sentimental or guilty, needlessly? Don't be like that. I hope that you believe that these bitter days of crying alone will prove to be the most beautiful days of your life. You'll realize, with time, that your life is actually pretty alright. I promise you. In fact, I'll write you a guarantee! The most beautiful thing in all the world is right now. This moment. You. Don't ever forget that. ~ Kim Jonghyun