We are forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial—I believe we are lost.

What was the point in crying when there was no one to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?

You can’t selectively numb your anger, any more than you can turn off all lights in a room, and still expect to see the light.

Your tears do not wash away your sorrows. They feed someone else's joy. And that is why you must learn to swallow your own tears.

Edgar Allan Poe’s writings showed me perfectly that there can be such fragile beauty and purity located in darkness and sorrow.

To laugh continually is to never laugh at all. For it takes the periodic sound of sorrow from which to distinguish the sound of joy.

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.

Now I lay facedown on the bed, sobbing for the womanwho once slept here not knowing that someday one of herworst fears would come true

Not sorry, not calling, not cryingAll will pass like smoke of white apple treesSeized by the gold of autumn,I will no longer be young.

My confidence is in the idea that I may be wrong on this or that. No man in this life should ever have to bear the burden of perfection.

I” gives birth to mind; Mind gives birth to ego,Ego gives birth to sense of separation,From where originates suffering and sorrow.

I remember watching the mascara tears flood the ivories and I thought, "It's OK to be sad." I've been trained to love my darkness.

Tears are another river that takes us home. We become alive with tears. There isn’t a chance to return to sleep when we are weeping.

...and I confess that, like a child, I cry. Ah, self-pity; I think we are at our most honest and sincere when we feel sorry for ourselves.

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that sorrow could be purified into song the same way a piece of coal is purified into a diamond.