A Quote by Elijah Wood

I had a woman breakdown and cry when she met me which was difficult to deal with because immediately when someone starts to cry, you want to comfort them, you know, 'Poor thing.' I comforted her. I tried to make her feel better.
It did no good to cry, she had learned that early on. She had also learned that every time she tried to make someone aware of something in her life, the situation just got worse. Consequently it was up to her to solve her problems by herself, using whatever methods she deemed necessary.
A woman cannot do the thing she ought, which means whatever perfect thing she can, in life, in art, in science, but she fears to let the perfect action take her part and rest there: she must prove what she can do before she does it, -- prate of woman's rights, of woman's mission, woman's function, till the men (who are prating, too, on their side) cry, A woman's function plainly is... to talk. Poor souls, they are very reasonably vexed!
Well, Kajol's a lovely lady! She's a pleasure to work with and I really enjoy her company! She has the ability to make someone feel so important...she herself is really cheerful and she makes others around her feel cheerful too. I don't believe I've ever seen her cry...except in front of the camera of course! I believe she has the potential to go so far.She is such an insipiration to everyone around her.....including me!
She should want to see me. If I had said how I feel about her, she would miss me even more. All this time, I've been breaking her heart by keeping her wait, yet I can't still appear before her eyes. I never want to see her cry anymore. Even if it means I no longer exist in her heart. How immature of me, right? -Kudou Shinichi
She wanted to cry, but she did not want Peter to see her cry, and she especially did not want Teacher, with her flowing hair, to see her cry.
One of my aunties inspires me beause of how easily she shows her emotions, and she isn't ever afraid to cry. My mum, for her work ethic - she might not show her emotions in public very much, but she's a total power woman. My grandma, who watched four of her children die before her, she's a powerhouse.
She really started to cry, and the next thing I knew, I was kissing her all over - anywhere - her eyes, her nose, her forehead, her eyebrows, and all, her ears - her whole face except her mouth and all.
I remember watching Meryl Streep in, The River Wild. There's this scene where she's has a gun pointed at her, it's absurd in a lot of ways. Someone pulls a gun on her I think, I'm not really fully aware of the scene and she just, she starts, you see her terrified. And then all of a sudden she starts to burst out laughing. She starts laughing. Like she can't stop laughing. Because she's terrified and she's emotional and there are no rules to what you're supposed to feel. That to me is like A number one, that's the thing I have to remind myself all the time.
Father, One day, a woman walked into my life. I hurt her deeply with the harshest words possible. I pushed her away as much as I could. But, she still came back to me. She is so much like me; I look at myself often when I look at her. She has the physical wounds that I have. The tears that fill my brain are flowing through her heart as well. I gave her those wounds. I made her cry. I should not have met her. I should not have allowed her to come into the life of a guy like me. Father, I'm regretting it. This is the first time... that I have ever regretted anything in my life.
I want to know how to make this girl laugh. I want to know what makes her cry. I want to know what it feels like to have her look at me as if I’m her knight in shinning armor.
I cannae believe you let me touch you.” His voice grew hoarse. “I shall remember this for all my nights.” Tears speared into her eyes. Dearest Virgin Scribe, for all her life, she had waited for a moment like this…. “Do not cry.” His thumb went to her cheeks. “Beautiful female of worth, do not cry.
She had said she didn't feel fear, but it was a lie; this was her fear: being left alone. Because of one thing she was certain, and it was that she could never love, not like that. Trust a stranger with her flesh? The closeness, the quiet. She couldn't imagine it. Breathing someone else's breath as they breathed yours, touching someone, opening for them? The vulnerability of it made her flush. It would mean submission, letting down her guard, and she wouldn't. Ever. Just the thought made her feel small and weak as a child.
When a homemaking aunt scolds a niece for following her evangelistic passion instead of domestic pursuits, her reply is interesting. First, she clarifies that God's individual call on her doesn't condemn those in more conventional roles. Then, she says she can no more ignore the cry of the lost than her aunt can the cry of her child.
I met a woman working 30 hours a week, trying to make ends meet, three children. And she slept the night before I met her in her car because she's homeless. We can do better. We can build a nation of shared prosperity.
You know, and the fact that Nina Simone had to start playing in clubs and sing because her parents had moved north to support her music education. You know, so she had to sing. She had to make a living 'cause she was supporting her family. So poverty and race put her in this place which, you know, created enormous success, but it's not what her psyche was all about.
From the moment I told her about my dad, it was as if her whole body sighed in relief. As if someone else’s misery comforted her, made her feel as if she wasn’t alone.
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