I wanted to cry, loud and wet with the pain of love.

It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die.

Our hearts have to cry to end our tears.

Love doesn't cast out fear but makes it possible to weep, howl, at least.

nada enlaza tanto los corazones como llorar juntos.

I can't help always falling upon it, and cry out with particular loudness and wailing, and become especially melancholy, when I see a dead love tied to a live love.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

And I know, and you know too That a love, like ours Is terrible news But that wont stop me crying No, that wont stop me crying over you

What matters most at the moment of heartbreak is the meaning we ascribe to our pain. We may feel devastated because we believe we’ve just lost our soul mate. And that’s often what we do feel in that moment. When we are deep in heartbreak we feel like we have lost the only person in the world for whom we are capable of feeling this level of emotion. We can’t imagine ever loving anyone else. If we invest in this belief, not only will it increase our suffering, it will also make it more difficult for anyone else to come into our life, because we feel like we’ve already lost The One. Nothing else seems to matter. We lose our drive, our ambition, and our ability to take even baby steps forward.

"Weep," said Athos, "weep, heart full of love, youth, and life! Alas, would I could weep like you!"

Perhaps — -the GREAT LOVES — -come with — -TEARS.

There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.

Your infatuation will end in tears.

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.