John T. Chance: Stumpy? Stumpy: Yeah? John T. Chance: Going over to the hotel for a few minutes. Stumpy: Well, if'n ya don't come back, me 'n' Joe'll have us a good cry.
Sandra Bradshaw: [crying to husband Phil over the plane's Airfone] But, baby, I promise you, if I get out of this, I'm quitting tomorrow. I'll quit tomorrow. I promise, I'll quit tomorrow.
Growing up, I saw my mother cry exactly once. The morning of her brother's funeral. One long tear ran down her cheek through her make up until she caught it near her mouth and patted it dry with a tissue she pulled from inside her sleeve.
You cry and you scream and you stomp your feet and you shout. You say, 'You know what? I'm giving up, I don't care.' And then you go to bed and you wake up and it's a brand new day, and you pick yourself back up again.
He saw us play a few times in fact. I did this song called I Can't Keep From Crying Sometimes, and Jimi loved it. He paid me a huge compliment when he told me that he was thinking of doing something similar himself!
Looking silly can be very powerful. People who are committing and taking risks become the king and queen of my prom. People are their most beautiful when they are laughing, crying, dancing, playing, telling the truth and being chased in a fun way.
When my toes are sunk into warm sand and the ocean is lapping my feet, when I breathe in the scent of salt and hear the cry of a seagull, I know that I am returned to a place of restoration. I am home.I can heal here.
I felt a hole boring through my heart. It was carving a scar that would never heal. I was a man. A man doesn't cry at lost love. Never. Instead, he turns hard. From now on, I would live up to my name"...Rattler.
I hate how books do this to you. They destroy your soul, pick and prod them till the bleed, stab your eyes so you have no choice but cry, yet...” she paused, “yet you cannot help but love them.
I don't care if it hurts, I'm tired of lies and all these games, I've reached a point in life, and no longer can I be this way, don't come crying to me, I too have shed my share of tears. I'm moving on, yes I'm grooving on.
I say, 'I write romance, women's fiction, chick lit.' I think it all fits very comfortably under the same umbrella. Basically, I write books for women - books about relationships: books that make you laugh and sometimes make you cry a little.
I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.
Did I tell you what happened at the play? We were at the back of the theatre, standing there in the dark, when all of a sudden I feel one of 'em tug at my sleeve, whispers, "Trudy look!" I said, "Yeah, goosebumps. You definitely got goosebumps. You l...
One weekend it rained for 48 hours without stopping. The rain beat like bony fingers against the window panes. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Fungus was growing on the walls. I polished off a bottle of gin sitting huddled over the two-bar electric fire and...
She dared to cry? On this day of all days? I was the one who would be married at sunset, and I hadn't let myself cry in five years. There was ice in my lungs and in my heart. I was floating. I was swept away, and out of the cold I spoke to her in a v...
Sam: If you can't laugh at yourself, life's gonna seem a whole lot longer than you like. Andrew Largeman: All right, so what are we laughing at you about? Sam: I lied again... I have epilepsy. Andrew Largeman: Which part are we laughing about? Sam: h...
Sulley: [is fighting the invisible Randall when he is hit with a snowball] Mike? Mike: Look, it's not that I don't care about the kid. Sulley: Mike, you don't understand. Mike: Yes, I do. I was just mad, that's all. I needed some time to think, but y...
On writing, my advice is the same to all. If you want to be a writer, write. Write and write and write. If you stop, start again. Save everything that you write. If you feel blocked, write through it until you feel your creative juices flowing again....
Well everybody's got a story to tell And everybody's got a wound to be healed I want to believe there's beauty here So, I guess you're tired of holding on I can't let go, I can't move on I want to believe there's meaning here How many times have you ...
Lighten up.” I yawned, pointing across the street to the diner. “If I got upset every time someone beat me, or chased me, or tried to rape me, I’d be crying in my cereal every morning. No one likes a whiner.
Then Walter died as he lived, he told his mate. A hero, a soldier, and a survivor who chose to protect what was precious to him. I don't think, if you could ask him, that he would have any regrets.
