46
" Let the tears which fell, and the broken words which were exchanged in the long close embrace between the orphans, be sacred. A father, sister, and mother, were gained, and lost, in that one moment. Joy and grief were mingled in the cup; but there were no bitter tears: for even grief arose so softened, and clothed in such sweet and tender recollections, that it became a solemn pleasure, and lost all character of pain. "
― Charles Dickens , Oliver Twist
49
" Let it hurt. Pick those flowers on your lungs and let it wither. Let your heart stop beating for someone who doesn’t deserves it. Let yourself be burn to your worst degree. Fall right down on your knees and scream the damn pain inside you. You’ve let the love to do its work, let it hurt. That’s part of its work.Let it bleed. Let the tears roll down your face. For once, allow yourself to be an artist. Let your mouth bleed with the unspoken feelings you’ve been wanting to say and be the author of your own story. Let the abstract in you be seen by the people who are doubting you. Do not cut your wrist, blood and scar might ruin your skin. I know, your heart was cut by the words they’ve stabbed on you, let it bleed with poetry and speak for yourself.Let it heal. For how many times people could’ve told you that time heals. Let me now tell you that it’s you, and you only, who could heal yourself. You could pick your broken pieces and build a better and stronger you. Let it heal, not for anyone. Let it heal for yourself. Even for once, let it be for yourself.And let it go. Snap out of the darkness you’re in right now. Let go of the pain that’s stopping you from moving forward. Let the toxic people go, you could’ve been better without them. Stop holding on to the anchor. Stop drowning yourself from sadness. You could always be happy. Just learn to let go of the things that keep you away from that possibility, just let go. "
50
" i dreamt that i died. for an instant, all the voices in my head stood calm, and for a moment, my heart stopped panicking, and for once in my whole life, my cheeks dried from all the tears that were falling every night ... i thought to my self: how nice it is to be finally dead, i wish i did it sooner.my brother once told me that people who commit suicide are mostly doing it for attention. that's so wrong. i'm not asking for attention, nor sympathy. when i put that blade on my shaking skin alone in my room at 3 am, you should be sure that i'm not thinking of anyone and i'm not asking for anyone's attention. all i'm doing is pushing my self to stop the pain. you see, i don't want to die too, all i want is for the pain to stop and for me to smile like everyone else.yasuko amaya - the day i decided to be God - "
58
" She felt hot tears soaking his shirt as she began to sob. “Forgive you? What king asks forgiveness of a slave?”“Avin…” he gently pushed her away. “I have wronged you. Terribly.”“Yes,” she said sadly. “But we both know it cannot be reversed. Not now. To do so will only throw Windbourne back in turmoil.” She wiped away tears with the back of her hand and looked towards the window. “I can no longer love these people after what they did, but I can acknowledge that they have suffered enough. The long winter was not their fault, but neither was the lie that made them angry. And now simple people have been promised a humbled queen, and you must deliver.”He sighed. “It is too much to ask,” he said.“Then don’t.” Avin gave him the smallest, and saddest of smiles.“You are the king,” she said. “So train me.” The tears came then, and she softened in his arms. “Save me, Xander, lest I never feel again.”“I am sorry,” he said into her hair. “I am sorry I didn’t come. I am sorry I was not the one to kill your father for the hurt he caused you. I am sorry that I caused you even more. I should have known better. I should have never believed the worst.” He put his forehead against hers. “Let me make it better, my love. "
59
" He peeped in again to see why the music had stopped, and now he saw that Mrs. Darling had laid her head on the box, and that two tears were sitting on her eyes.
'She wants me to unbar the window,' thought Peter, 'but I won't, not I!'
He peeped again, and the tears were still there, or another two had taken their place.
'She's awfully fond of Wendy,' he said to himself. He was angry with her now for not seeing why she could not have Wendy.
The reason was so simple: 'I'm fond of her too. We can't both have her, lady. "
― J.M. Barrie , Peter Pan