The busy have no time for tears.
I was in my thirteenth year when I heard a voice from God to help me govern my conduct. And the first time I was very much afraid.
We all have wings, but they have not been of any avail to us and if we could tear them off, we would do so.
At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.
I get a little jealous of these actor boys. They walk into a club, and in two seconds flat there are swarms of girls who are wanting so badly to touch them or just say hello. That's not the case with me, or any other girl I know.
Fathers should be neither seen nor heard. That is the only proper basis for family life.
I heard the old, old, men say 'all that's beautiful drifts away, like the waters.'
No great movement designed to change the world can bear to be laughed at or belittled. Mockery is a rust that corrodes all it touches.
A tear dries quickly when it is shed for troubles of others.
If it were possible to cure evils by lamentation and to raise the dead with tears, then gold would be a less valuable thing than weeping.
It is the mark of a great man that he puts to flight all ordinary calculations. He is at once sublime and touching, childlike and of the race of giants.
But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.
If only your pure and clean mind could touch me, dear Haydn, nobody has a greater reverence for you than I have.
Whatever tears one may shed, in the end one always blows one's nose.
Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.
I remember one day sitting at the pool and suddenly the tears were streaming down my cheeks. Why was I so unhappy? I had success. I had security. But it wasn't enough. I was exploding inside.
All who call on God in true faith, earnestly from the heart, will certainly be heard, and will receive what they have asked and desired.
Tears may be dried up, but the heart - never.
Tears are the silent language of grief.
It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less with baldness.
It's a project that touched me as an immigrant and as a New Yorker.
I have always heard, Sancho, that doing good to base fellows is like throwing water into the sea.
For pleasures past I do not grieve, nor perils gathering near; My greatest grief is that I leave nothing that claims a tear.
It's easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself.
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.