A Quote by Dee Clark
Oh, no, it can't be teardrops
'Cause a man ain't supposed to cry.
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I'm a comedian, and I definitely see the humor in a lot of things. I am also sad a lot. I cry often and easily. I think you're supposed to feel all kinds of things. You're supposed to laugh, you're supposed to cry, you're not supposed to shove your feelings under the rug.
Now are the days, of humblest prayer,
When consciences to God lie bare,
And mercy most delights to spare.
Oh hearken when we cry.
Now is the season, wisely long,
Of sadder thought and graver song,
When ailing souls grow well and strong.
Oh hearken when we cry.
The feast of penance! Oh so bright,
With true conversion's heavenly light,
Like sunrise after stormy night!
Oh hearken when we cry.
Oh happy time of blessed tears,
Of surer hopes, of chast'ning fears,
Undoing all our evil years.
Oh hearken when we cry.
Chastise us with Thy fear;
Yet, Father! in the multitude
Of Thy compassions, hear!
I suppose I've always done my share of crying, especially when there's no other way to contain my feelings. I know that men ain't supposed to cry, but I think that's wrong. Crying's always been a way for me to get things out which are buried deep, deep down. When I sing, I often cry. Crying is feeling, and feeling is being human. Oh yes, I cry.
The hardest thing for me is crying. Where I'm from, it's been instilled in me since I was little that men don't cry. Thank God for teardrops and menthol.
Why does a man cry? he wondered. Not like a woman; not for that. Not for sentiment. A man cries over the loss of something, something alive. A man can cry over a sick animal that he knows won't make it. The death of a child: a man can cry for that. But not because things are sad. A man, he thought, cries not for the future or the past but for the present.
Oh any sentimental person can cry at night, but when you begin to cry in the morning - to lie awake and cry in the morning-.
Sometimes when I'm alone I Cry, Cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life but take no form I Cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confide in, I would cry among my treasured friend, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on. The world moves fast and it would rather pass by. Then to stop and see what makes one cry, so painful and sad. And sometimes... I Cry and no one cares about why.
I wasn't supposed to make it out of Detroit. I wasn't supposed to get a scholarship. I was supposed to be [covering] kicks the rest of my life. But here I am. I'm a man playing with the house's money, and that's a dangerous man.
This guy says, "I'm perfect for you, 'cause I'm a cross between a macho man and a sensitive man." I said, "Oh, a gay trucker?"
The reasonableness of the agency of the national courts in cases in which the state tribunals cannot be supposed to be impartial, speaks for itself. No man ought certainly to be a judge in his own cause, or in any cause in respect to which he has the least interest or bias.
I can't speak for other people, but I still hate losing. When I did lose, I found it easier to yell than to cry. Guys aren't supposed to cry, are they?
To die for a cause is insanity; man's greatest cause is to live; his biggest purpose is to stay alive! Only fools die for a cause! Which cause can be superior to man's life?
If I'm jetlagging, and I've missed some meals, and it gets to that point in a movie that you're supposed to cry, I'll let my defences down from around my inherent standing level of cynicism, and I'll cry.
Who will cry for the little boy, lost and all alone?
Who will cry for the little boy, abandoned without his own?
Who will cry for the little boy? He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy? He never had for keeps.
Who will cry for the little boy? He walked the burning sand.
Who will cry for the little boy? The boy inside the man.
Who will cry for the little boy? Who knows well hurt and pain.
Who will cry for the little boy? He died and died again.
Who will cry for the little boy? A good boy he tried to be.
Who will cry for the little boy, who cries inside of me?
I cry all the time. It's more like when didn't you cry. My friends are like, 'Oh God, she's sobbing again.' I cry if I'm happy, sad, normal... What really gets me is when I read a sad story about a child in the paper, especially at the moment with my hormones raging.
The cause of the South was the cause of constitutional government, the cause of government regulated by law, and the cause of honesty and fidelity in public servants. No nobler cause did man ever fight for!
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