Make Her Cry Quotes & Sayings

Do you even know," she said, and I could tell from the sound of her voice that she was about to cry, "can you even imagine what it's like to know that nothing you can do will make any difference? That nothing you can do will protect the people you love? That anything you could possibly ever do is less than worthless?" I could. "And yet you do it anyway." "Superstitious savage that I am." Definitely crying now. "Nothing I do will make any difference. But I will make you look at it. I will make you see what it is you've done, and ever after, if you would look away, if you would ever claim to be just, or proper, you'll have to lie to yourself outright." "Most esteemed Queter," I said, "idealist that you are, young as you are, you can have no idea just how easy it is for people to deceive themselves. — Ann Leckie

Lilah did little more than sleep and eat and cry, which to me was the most fascinating thing in the entire universe. Why did she cry? When did she sleep? What made her eat a lot one day and little the next? Was she changing with time? I did what any obsessed person would do in such a case: I recorded data, plotted it, calculated statistical correlations. First I just wrote on scraps of paper and made charts on graph paper, but I very quickly became more sophisticated. I wrote computer software to make a beautifully colored plot showing times when Diane fed Lilah, in black; when I fed her, in blue (expressed mother's milk, if you must know); Lilah's fussy times, in angry red; her happy times, in green. I calculated patterns in sleeping times, eating times, length of sleep, amounts eaten.
Then, I did what any obsessed person would do these days; I put it all on the Web. — Mike Brown

I am heartless, she thinks, but she knows even through her guilt that this isn't true. She knows there are traps everywhere that can make her cry, she knows the way she dies a little every time someone asks her for change and she doesn't give it to them means that she's too soft for this world or perhaps just for this city, — Emily St. John Mandel

Every morning she'd crick herself down onto the flimsy rug by her bed and pray, but it was actually a promise: Today I won't yell, I won't cry, I won't clench up into a ball like I am waiting for a blow to level me. I will enjoy today. She might make it to lunch before she went sour. — Gillian Flynn

Brenda is staring at Roamer and the rest of the crying herd, her eyes dry and angry. I know what she's feeling. Here are these people who called him 'freak' and never paid attention to him, except to make fun of him or spread rumors about him, and now they are carrying on like professional mourners, the ones you can hire in Taiwan or the Middle East to sing, cry, and crawl on the ground. His family is just as bad. — Jennifer Niven

Somebody betrayed us... The Germans learned the location of our partisan troop. They surrounded the forest from all sides. We were hiding in the deep woods, hiding in the swamps where the torturers did not go [...] A radio operator was with us. She gave birth recently. The baby was hungry... Wanting the breast... But the mother is starving, she has no milk, and the baby is crying. The Germans are nearby... With dogs... If the dogs hear the baby, we're all dead. All of us - thirty people... Do you understand? We make a decision... Nobody dares to tell her the commader's order, but the mother guesses it herself. She puts the bundle with the baby into the water and holds it there for a long time... The baby does not cry... Not a sound... And we cannot lift our eyes. We cannot look at the mother or at each other — Svetlana Alexievich

I met a girl and we ran away, I swore I'd make her happy every day. And how I made her cry, two faces have I. — Bruce Springsteen

Your love taught me to grieve and I have been needing, for centuries a woman to make me grieve for a woman, to cry upon her arms like a sparrow for a woman to gather my pieces like shards of broken crystal — Nizar Qabbani

She hated that book. El's not the type of person who can read something that's made her cry and think it was good because it touched her. No, books or movies that make Ellen cry infuriate her. Like, it's some kind of betrayal. — Julie Murphy

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. — Elijah Wood

JAMIE'S SONG 'ONE HALF':

I wish you wouldn't try,
to find me where I hide.
I am fine where I reside,
So please don't follow.

I wish you wouldn't cry,
can't bear that in your eyes.
I am more than terrified.
Please say you won't go.

If I could make two of me,
you would get one half.
But there's only one of me,
and that's more than enough.

I wish you wouldn't want from me,
what I cannot give.
I wish you could be satisfied,
with what you now receive.

There is only one of me,
and I belong to her.
If I live another life,
hope you come before her. — Neha Yazmin

He was suddenly aware of the pain rampaging through him. "Where's Swindler?"
"Here." He crouched beside Sterling. "We got the boy."
Sterling grabbed his shirt, then cursed himself as he fell backward, bringing Swindler with him. "Never make her cry."
He didn't know if Swindler nodded, because his entire world went black. — Lorraine Heath

Come on, girl. Don't cry," whispered Frank.
"Why not? I can be miserable if I want to. You don't need to try and make it go away. It shouldn't go away. It's just as sad as it ought to be and I'm not going to hide from what's true just because it hurts." Cee wasn't sobbing anymore, but the tears were still running down her cheeks. — Toni Morrison

IN THE SECOND GRADE, WHEN YOU ARE A BOY WHO LIKES A GIRL, YOU GIVE HER YOUR BEST POKEMON CARD. OR YOU PULL HER HAIR. NOT HARD ENOUGH TO MAKE HER CRY, THOUGH.
OR YOU CAN ASK TO HER ROLLERSKATE BACKWARDS WITH YOU, AND THEN HOLD HER HAND SO SHE DOESN'T FALL DOWN. — Meg Cabot

That was the worst period of all: it is my profession to imagine, to think in images: fifty times through the day, and immediately I woke during the night, a curtain would rise and the play would begin: always the same play, Sarah making love, Sarah with X, doing the same things that we had done together, Sarah kissing in her own particular way, arching herself in the act of sex and uttering that cry like pain, Sarah in abandonment. I would take pills at night to make me sleep quickly, but I never found any pills that would keep me asleep till daylight. — Graham Greene

Be careful if you make a women cry, because God counts her tears. The woman came out of a man's ribs. Not from his feet to be walked on, not from his head to be superior, but from his side to be equal, under the arm to be protected, and next to the heart to be loved. — Matthew Henry

Look, I know you're a guy - " "Damn straight." "And there's some man rule that you've got to be all macho - " "Rule number three, actually." Both of her eyebrows shot up. "Would you just let me finish before I make you cry and break rule number three. — Cindi Madsen

I think unconsciously I was afraid that if she asked me how I felt, my unleashed grief and rage would kill us all. In some unadmitted corner of myself I was already weeping and screaming and begging her not to leave me, not to go. If I started crying for real, only her comfort could make me stop, and if she died before she had finished comforting me, then I would be left to cry forever. — Jean Hegland

Sephy told me once that I was the only one who could make her cry. I've never told this to her, or to anyone else for the matter, but it works the other way round as well.
- callum mcgregor/noughts&crosses — Malorie Blackman

Tell me again about the girl whose hands
have no color. Whose hands are completely
white. This time make them damned, or
untouched, or have her open a red umbrella
or point at some maple leaves and damned
near cry. Those hands. As freakish goes,
I wish I had a tail. Maybe then you'd know
how much I like you. It shakes me through,
damn through. It shakes me. When she carries
a peacock feather. When she touches her neck
or thighs. You're a person. It's not so bad.
You have hands. You are a person with hands
to hold things. Things you like. Tremendous
things. Tell me what you will hold today. I
know there is room for everything. There is no
need to be ceremonious. Tell what gets let go. — Rebecca Wadlinger

This is your baby sister, Christian. Her name is Mia."
Mommy lets me hold her. She is very small. With black, black hair.
She smiles. She has no teeth. I stick out my tongue. She has a bubbly laugh.
Mommy lets me hold the baby again. Her name is Mia.
I make her laugh. I hold her and hold her. She is safe when I hold her.
Elliot is not interested in Mia. She dribbles and cries.
And he wrinkles his nose when she does a poop.
When Mia is crying Elliot ignores her. I hold her and hold her and she stops.
She falls asleep in my arms.
"Mee a," I whisper.
"What did you say?! Mommy asks, and her face is white like a chalk.
"Mee a."
"Yes. Yes. Darling boy. Mia. Her name is Mia."
And Mommy starts to cry with happy, happy tears. — E.L. James

Mama covered her ears with her hands, but I knew she heard me. Tears streamed from her eyes and dribbled from her chin.
Part of me wanted to blot her face with a tissue, real tender-like, but the evil me, the girl tired of keeping her feelings bottled up for fear I'd upset mama, was blissful at causing a commotion.
Maybe it was cruel to make mama cry, but at least I had cracked her shell and got a reaction.
Any response was better than talking to a zombie — April Young Fritz

But I still did not realize how mad she was, and how accustomed to dreaming; and that she would not cry out for reality, rather would feed reality to her dreams, a demon elf feeding her spinning wheel with the reeds of the world so she might make her own weblike universe. — Anne Rice

You think I don't know, that I don't understand what that cost you. But you're wrong." She couldn't keep her voice steady, gave up trying. "You're wrong, Roarke. I do know. There's no one else in the world who would want, who would need to kill for me. No one else in the world who would step back from it because I asked it. Because I needed it."
She turned, and the first tear spilled over. "No one but you."
"Don't. You'll do me in if you cry."
"I never in my life expected anyone would love me, all of me. How would I deserve that? What would I do with it? But you do. Everything we've managed to have together, to be to each other, this is more. I'll never be able to find the words to tell you what you just gave me."
"You undo me, Eve. Who else would make me feel like a hero for doing nothing."
"You did everything. Everything. Are everything. — J.D. Robb

As it shut behind him, Clary reached up and angrily yanked the pins out of her hair. It cascaded in tangles down around her shoulders. "Clary," Luke said gently. He stood up. "What are you doing?" "My hair." She yanked the last pin out, hard. Her eyes were shining, and Simon could tell she was forcibly willing herself not to cry. "I don't want t wear it like this. It looks stupid." "No, it doesn't." Luke took the pins from her and set them down on one of the small white end tables. "Look, weddings make men nervous, okay? It doesn't mean anything. — Cassandra Clare

The right to dispose of her body however they wished, in whatever place or manner they should choose, the right to keep her in chains, the right to whip her like a slave or prisoner for the slightest failing or infraction, or simply for their pleasure, the right to pay no heed to her pleas and cries, if they should make her cry out. — Pauline Reage

Shortly after Julie began transcribing, I heard her loudly cry out. I rushed over to find her sobbing after she had heard, for the first time, her voice and mine on an FBI intercept. Few things can make you feel more violated than knowing that strange people, working for your government, are listening to conversations between you and your spouse. — Robert Blagojevich

If you make a girl laugh, she likes you. But if you make her cry, she loves you. — Ika Natassa

Georgiana, a more vain and absurd animal than you, was certainly never allowed to cumber the earth. You had no right to be born; for you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with yourself, as a reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten your feebleness on some other person's strength: if no one can be found willing to burden her or himself with such a fat, weak, puffy, useless thing, you cry out that you are ill-treated, neglected, miserable. Then, too, existence for you must be a scene of continual change and excitement, or else the world is a dungeon: you must be admired, you must be courted, you must be flattered - you must have music, dancing, and society - or you languish, you die away. Have you no sense to devise a system which will make you independent of all efforts, and all wills, but your own? — Charlotte Bronte

If I was going to make her cry, I wanted it to be in person so I could watch. — Teresa Mummert

Now would you do me a favor?' From somewhere inside me came this devastating assault to make me cry. But I withstood. I would not cry. I would merely indicate to Jennifer - by the affirmative nodding of my head - that I would be happy to do her any favor whatsoever.
'Would you please hold me very tight?' she asked.
I put my hand on her forearm - Christ, so thin - and gave it a little squeeze.
'No, Oliver,' she said, 'really hold me. Next to me.'I was very, very careful - of the tubes and things - as I got onto the bed with her and put my arms around her.
'Thanks, Ollie.'
Those were her last words. — Erich Segal

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. — Stieg Larsson

Your time's running out, Valkyrie." Fegley gave another wallop before he squeaked off.
Regin narrowed her eyes, watching him till he was out of sight. "One day I'm going to make that little piggy cry all the way home. — Kresley Cole

Would it help," he asked gently, "to have a shoulder to cry on?"
She fought to conceal how much the question unnerved her. "Thank you, but no." Carefully she dropped the herbs into the kettle. "Crying is a waste of time."
"' To weep is to make less the depth of grief.'"
"Is that a Romany saying?"
"Shakespeare. — Lisa Kleypas

Weetzie could not even cry and make Kleenex roses. She remembered the day her father, Charlie, had driven away in the smashed yellow T-bird, leaving her mother Brandy-Lynn clutching her flowered robe with one hand and an empty glass in the other, and leaving Weetzie holding her arms crossed over her chest that was taking its time to develope into anything — Francesca Lia Block

Tears are good for you," Raphael said. When she opened her eyes back up, he knelt down. His large frame seemed to make the room shrink. His face was almost level with hers as his eyes met Emma's. "They are a gift from the Creator to his creation. Tears release endorphins in the mind that help sooth and comfort. They cleanse the eyes and relieve stress, thereby lowering blood pressure and taking strain off of the heart. He created you with tears and nothing he created is bad. Those tears you are holding in are necessary, Emma. Let them fall, let them heal, and let them remind you with each one that you are not alone. — Quinn Loftis

We argued most of the way home. I thought it would be nicest for Hal to take his two dollars in to Mother first, bu Muriel didn't think so. She always wanted to do things as if it were a play. "That wouldn't be any good," she said. "If Hal goes in first and gives her the money, she'll start crying right away. But if you give her yours first, she'll just say we were smart children to make so much money. And then I'll give her mine, and she'll say, 'Why, why ... where in the world did you get so much money?' And then Phillip can give her his, and she'll look like she thought maybe we'd robbed a bank. And then when Hal gives her his, we'll all want to cry."
It worked just the way she thought it would. — Ralph Moody

It is always true to say when reviewing one of this patient's sessions that if she could scream she would be well," wrote Winnicott. "The great non-event of every session is screaming."6 The Burmese master who counseled Sharon was making much the same point. In encouraging her to cry her heart out, he was countering her inclination to make crying the "great non-event" of every meditation session. Like the Burmese teacher, Winnicott felt that if his patient could cry her heart out, her psyche would grow. — Mark Epstein

Growing up, I saw my mother cry exactly once. The morning of her brother's funeral. One long tear ran down her cheek through her make up until she caught it near her mouth and patted it dry with a tissue she pulled from inside her sleeve. — Kelly Corrigan

The thing with Rubik's cubes, sometimes you make them worse when you try to fix them. I didn't want to make her worse, and I also didn't know how to make her better. — K.A. Coleman

Baby don't do this." He whispered the words. Why did he thought if she cried she'd feel better? It was too much, too much sorrow for her. He pulled her beneath him, lying over her, somehow trying with his body to protect her from the ggrief.
She came awake, her eyes wide, black. Swimming with tears. "Nicholas? What is it?" He touched his face, the lines of worry there.
"You're crying, honey. I thought it would be good for you to cry, but not like this, not in your sleep where I can't share it with you."
"I can't be crying." Dahlia wiped at the tears on her face with a kind of horror. "I never cry."
"You are crying."
"I can't stop." She looked desperate. "Make me stop, Nicholas, Make it stop. — Christine Feehan

I don't usually try to rely on songs to woo a girl, but I think Coldplay can get a girl in the mood ... or make her cry, one or the other. I used to play in cover bands; we sure did our fair share of Coldplay. I like 'Viva La Vida.' — Mark Salling

Do you have any idea how much it turns me on, knowing something of mine has been cradling your sweet pussy all day long?" Without warning, he thrust two thick fingers inside her with just enough force to make her cry out, bring her up on her toes. He didn't move them, only held them there, high and tight inside her. Ruby's head fell forward on a moan that was equal parts frustrated and relieved. He'd finally filled her. But she needed so much more from him, and he seemed determined to take his time. "You walked around with your naughty secret all day, didn't you? Did you think of me while you sat in class wearing my underwear? Did the thought of me get you all wet, baby?" His thrust his fingers deeper. "Answer me or you'll get no more. — Tessa Bailey

Luke used his thumb to wipe away her tears.
"No, Gracie. I want you in my arms. I'll hold you. I'll keep you. I'll make you forget whatever it is you're running away from."
"Don't," she took a huge breath. "I don't want to cry. I don't want you to see me cry."
"Then stay in my arms, and I'll make you smile. — Isobelle Cate

Then Lyra gave a cry so passionate that even in that muffled, mist-hung world it raised an echo, but of course it wasn't an echo, it was the other part of her crying in turn from the land of the living as Lyra moved away into the land of the dead. "My heart, Will ... " she groaned, and clung to him, her wet face contorted with pain. And thus the prophecy that the Master of Jordan College had made to the Librarian, that Lyra would make a great betrayal and it would hurt her terribly, was fulfilled. — Philip Pullman

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! — Shahrukh Khan

I grasp her cheeks, framing her face with my hands, and stare her straight in the eyes, dead serious, as I say, "If you're going to start crying, I need you to not do it while you're sitting on my lap."
She lets out a light laugh, grabbing my wrists, pulling my hands away from her face, forcing my arms around her.
"I'm not going to cry," she says, fumbling between us, undoing my pants. "I'm going to show you my appreciation instead."
"You don't have to give pussy to show gratitude," I tell her. "A simple 'thanks' will suffice."
"I know," she whispers. "Thank you. But I want to give you pussy to show you I'm grateful, because the way I feel when you're inside of me? There's nothing else like it. You make me feel alive. — J.M. Darhower

I'm sorry."
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry. At the same time, she was oddly touched by his apology.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
Something tore quite explicitly, and she inhaled but didn't make a sound.
He opened his eyes, looking stricken and hot and savage. "Oh, God, sweetheart. I promise it
will be better next time." He kissed the corner of her mouth softly. "I promise."
She concentrated on steadying her breath and hoped he would finish very soon. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but this was no longer pleasant for her.
He parted his mouth over hers and licked her bottom lip. "I'm sorry. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I repent nothing. A line remembered from the fog of the Internet. I am heartless, she thinks, but she knows even through her guilt that this isn't true. She knows there are traps everywhere that can make her cry, she knows the way she dies a little every time someone asks her for change and she doesn't give it to them means that she's too soft for this world or perhaps just for this city, she feels so small here. There are tears in her eyes now. Miranda is a person with very few certainties, but one of them is that only the dishonorable leave when things get difficult. — Emily St. John Mandel

Remember. Make him cry uncle.
Cry uncle, my posterior. I'm going to make him cry like a girl who broke her mom's designer heels at the prom. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Austen's works have endured because she had a superb narrative technique and a gift for creating characters who feel as real as life itself. She didn't just write about romance. She observed subjects and social and emotional struggles that are struggles that are still very relevant today. She could pull at your heartstrings, but she could also make you laugh and cry. At the end of her books, if you're paying attention, you come away feeling a little wiser about yourself and what's important in life. — Syrie James

A guy walks into a bar, orders a drink, sees a girl that catches his eye. Asks her if she wants another, they fall for each other and end up lovers. They laugh, cry, hold on tight and make it work for a little while, then one night her taillights fade out into the dark. And a guy walks into a bar — Tyler Farr

Don't cry, Mary," Eden croaked. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
My lip quivered as I softly replied, "You're dying. How could I not cry?"
I didn't hear Lucas walk up behind me, but he put his hand on my shoulder for comfort. I sniffed back tears as I looked at my aunt lying helplessly in the hospital bed. I took in a sharp breath as Eden's glassy eyes searched mine.
"I love you," Eden said weakly, coughing into her shaking hand.
"I love you, too," I whispered. "But this isn't goodbye. Don't say goodbye," I pleaded. — Barbara C. Doyle

He didn't require some eighteen-year-old to make his cock hard. He wanted a woman, one with lines in her face that said she'd done some living and had learned to cry. And to laugh. — Cherise Sinclair

The murderous look in his eyes made her legs turn to jelly.
'Don't,' he spat out, 'make the mistake of getting me angry.'
'You're not angry now?' she croaked in disbelief.
He let her go abruptly and smiled, cocking a brow as she slid down into a crouch. 'Not at all,' he said smoothly. 'I merely wanted to set some ground rules.'
Henry's mouth fell open. The man was insane.
'First of all, no more devious little plots to try to get rid of me.'
Her throat worked convulsively.
'And no lies!'
She gasped for breath.
'And-' He paused to look down at her. 'Oh, Christ. Don't cry.'
She bawled.
... 'I haven't cried in years.'
He believed her ... Dunford looked around frantically, as if the green hills would somehow tell him how to get her to stop crying. — Julia Quinn

Thumbs-up. We could never make Dry Witch Toby cry. The boys said she was a hardass - she and Rebecca were the two hardest asses. Rebecca was jolly on the outside, but you did not push her buttons. As for Toby, she was leathery inside and out. "Don't try it, Shackleton," she would say, even though her back was turned. Nuala was too kind to us, but Toby held us to account, and we trusted Toby more: you'd — Margaret Atwood

If you sense that someone feels disconnected, reach out to them," the speaker urges. "buy them a soda. Compliment their new hairdo. It'll make them feel better, and you'll feel better knowing you've been a channel of grace."
Jolene leans over and whispers, "My pen is feeling disconnected. Will you be a channel of grave and get it for me?"
**********
Chelsea, quit picking at your scab," a girl in front of me says to her friend as we file out. "It's gross." Then she gasps in mock horror. "Or maybe it's a cry for help! Be strong, Chelsea! Stay with the living! — Lauren Myracle

She touched the edge of its voluptuous field, knowing it would be lovely beyond dreams simply to submit to it; that not gravity's pull, laws of ballistics, feral ravening, promised more delight. She tested it, shivering: I am meant to remember. Each clue that comes is supposed to have its own clarity, its fine chances for permanence. But then she wondered if the gemlike "clues" were only some kind of compensation. To make up for her having lost the direct, epileptic Word, the cry that might abolish the night. — Thomas Pynchon

He leaned down, lapped at her tears with his tongue. "I won't take you, make you come until you tell me you belong to me because otherwise I'm just the Breeding Male again. Don't you understand that?" Her eyes locked with his. "Don't you understand that I love you. Me. Not "it"-me."
Her body was on fire, her mind gone, but her unbeating heart could only call out, cry out to the one it had no right to claim. Lucian Roman. "Damn it! I love you too, you bastard. — Laura Wright

GLOUCESTER. Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee I crave your blessing.
DUCHESS. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast,love, charity, obedience, and true duty!
GLOUCESTER. Amen! [Aside] And make me die a good old man! That is the butt end of a mother's blessing; I marvel that her Grace did leave it out. — William Shakespeare

It was enough to make her want to sit down on the ground and cry. It was too much. But there was no one else, so it couldn't be too much. It had to be exactly enough. It had to be what she could handle, and she had to handle it — Holly Black

Hazel stabbed him again, and both of Trenton's feet came off the floor, but he didn't make a sound. "And that is why I waited for your girl. So you wouldn't cry. Damn, Cami takes your dick every night, and it's way bigger than a sixteen gauge."
I frowned. "Uncalled for. You need to get laid. You've been super in-apropos lately."
Hazel jutted out her lip. "Tell me about it!"
Trenton wore a wry smile. "But she's right, baby doll. I'm way bigger than a sixteen gauge. — Jamie McGuire

When I wake up in the morning ... I don't think, wow, how can I make her love me more? How can I have my way with her? I, I, I? Not in my vocabulary. In fact, I'm a big fan of the letter u. I eat, I think of you. I drink, I drink to you. I cry, so you don't have to. I'd die, for you to live. And I'd survive with a broken heart only if it meant mending yours. - Nixon — Rachel Van Dyken

One of the girls saw her, then did a double-take. Her eyes sparkled. Not a bright sparkle, but a dull, dark sparkle, like the twinkling of a lantern at the bottom of a deep well. Here's something fun, her eyes said. Here's something freakish. Let's play with it and see if we can make it cry. — Miyuki Miyabe

The stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking didn't make her skinny, it made her cry. — Laurie Halse Anderson

I wanted to persuade her, but I didn't want to scare her, and I certainly didn't want to make her cry. I wanted her to be safe. I wanted her to be mine. I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too. — Nenia Campbell

If you promise to be good Paul you can have a piece of birthday cake but you won't have to eat any of the special candle so he promised to be good because he didn't want to be forced to eat any of the special candle but also because mostly because surely because Annie was great Annie was good let us thank her for our food including that we don't have to eat girls just wanna have fun but something wicked this way comes please don't make me eat my thumb Annie the mom Annie the goddess when Annie's around you better stay honest she knows when you've been sleeping she knows when you're awake she knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goddess' sake you better not cry you better not pout but most of all you better not scream don't scream don't scream don't scream don't He — Stephen King

You wanna cry, chica?"
She nodded and squaked, "Yes"
"Then you cry" He signed as he caressed her arm. "I can't make you hard, so you be soft for both of us, okay? — Kele Moon

She is standing on my lids
And her hair is in my hair
She has the colour of my eye
She has the body of my hand
In my shade she is engulfed
As a stone against the sky
She will never close her eyes
And she does not let me sleep
And her dreams in the bright day
Make the suns evaporate
And me laugh cry and laugh
Speak when I have nothing to say — Paul Eluard

He stepped close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck. "Eve, you make me not want to die."
She turned to see his face. "I didn't want to be this, and now it's all I am."
He put his hands on her cheeks. The look on his face did her in. He was kind, caring, and mourning her losses. Tears wet his cheeks. Eve felt a very deep sob choke her. If he was mourning, so could she.
He pulled her into his arms. "Cry. It's okay. Cry."
Eve felt her knees give. He caught her and carried her to his couch. He petted her hair and let her empty her pain and guilt onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head. For the first time, his actions toward her seemed to have no sexual intent whatsoever.
Eve let go of a rope she'd clung to for too long. And she fell. She fell right into him. Wrong or right, she gave up judging. Her lips found his, and he kissed her gently, not demanding any more than she was willing to offer. — Debra Anastasia

I want to make her cry and then lick up the tears. — Gayle Forman

A single smile from her could make his entire being burn. One touch from her hand and he was undone. It was terrifying to think of how much power this one person had over him. How one single gesture from her could affect him so profoundly. (Sin thinking about Kat) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I never wanted to be the one to break her heart, to disappoint her, to be late for dinner or to hog the bed. I never wanted to be the person to make her cry, or turn out to be a huge let-down. She meant to much to me for any of that. While I believed I could love her better than anyone in the world, I didn't really trust myself to be ... Well, good enough. — Jessica Thompson

The tears brimming in her eyes make me stop. I cannot suffer a woman to cry. Elizabeth and I have an agreement: she does not cry in arguments anymore and I let her win them all. — Roberto Calas

All the stories, all the incidents that made the life were stopped in a second - opinions stopped, and the ability to feel, all stopped without any meaning.'He wanted to make himself know what happened, for he could feel the beginning of the calm settling upon him. He wanted to cry out once in personal pain before he was cut off and unable to feel sorrow or resentment. There were little stinging drops of cold on his head. He looked up and saw that it was raining gently. The drops fell on Elizabeth's cheeks and flashed in her hair. — John Steinbeck

Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried. — Jane Austen

You're right, my problems are the biggest problems ever," George said. "No, honestly, it's horrible to be me. I'm rich, talented, and I make girls cry."
"How do you make girls cry, exactly?"
George turned to her. His blue eyes widened. His lovely face took on a forlorn, deeply troubled expression. He leaned forward, and, in a theatrical whisper, said, "My past is tragic. I wouldn't want to burden you with it. It's a pain I must suffer alone. In the rain. In silence. — Ilona Andrews

And payment exacted for the crimes and weaknesses of a lifetime. Her hands shook, and tears prickled at the back of her eyes, but she couldn't even cry. Something horrible was going to happen to her, and she knew she deserved it, but she couldn't help shrieking inside that it wasn't fair, that she hadn't known what would happen back when she could still change things, back while it would have done any good. And now, nothing she could do could ever make up for what she'd done. She didn't think she could do good if she tried. — Mercedes Lackey

When I got back to my office Tween was there. She rose from the foyer couch as I wheezed in off the ramp. I took one look at her and said, "Come inside." She followed me through the inner door. I waved my hand over the infra-red plate and it closed. Then I put out my arms.
She bleated like a new-born lamb and flew to me. Her tears were scalding, and I don't think human muscles are built for the wrenching those agonized sobs gave her. People should cry more. They ought to learn how to do it easily, like laughing or sweating. Crying piles up. In people like Tween, who do nothing if they can't smile and make a habit-pattern of it, it really piles up. With a reservoir like that, and no developed outlet, things get torn when the pressure builds too high.
I just held her tight so she wouldn't explode. The only thing I said to her was "sh-h-h" once when she tried to talk while she wept. One thing at a time. — Theodore Sturgeon

Celeste walked up, as strong as I'd ever seen her, and whispered something into Maxon's ear.
When she was done, he smiled. "I don't think that will be necessary."
"Good." She left, closing the door behind her, and I stood to take whatever was coming.
"What was that about?" I asked, nodding toward the door.
"Oh, Celeste was making it clear that if I hurt you, she'd make me cry," he said with a smile.
I laughed. "I've been on the receiving end of those nails, so be careful there."
"Yes, ma'am. — Kiera Cass

Perhaps when you were a little child, people would sometimes take your toy away from you. You learned to cry, to try to manipulate the situation; or to smile so as to please your caretaker, to make her give back the toy. As a young child, you learned to produce a diplomatic smile. That's one way of dealing with the problem of survival. You learn without even knowing that you're learning. The feeling that you're fragile, vulnerable, unable to defend yourself, the feeling that you always need someone to be with you, is always there. That original fear - and its other face, original desire - is always there. The infant, with his fear and his desire, is always alive in us. — Thich Nhat Hanh

I look at her there in the shadows of the shut-down city, her hair falling onto her face, and I can see her trying to figure out if I've lost it. And I have to fight the urge to take her by the shoulders and slam her against a shuttered building until we feel the vibrations ringing through both of us. Because I suddenly want to hear her bones rattle. I want to feel the softness of her flesh give, to hear her gasp as my hip bone jams into her. I want to yank her head back until her neck is exposed. I want to rip my hands through her hair until her breath is labored. I want to make her cry and then lick up the tears. And then I want to take my mouth to hers, to devour her alive, to transmit all the things she can't understand. — Gayle Forman

To make love is to become like this infant again. We grope with our mouths toward the body of another being, whom we trust, who takes us in her arms. We rock together with this loved one. We move beyond speech. Our bodies move past all the controls we have learned. We cry out in ecstasy, in feeling. We are back in a natural world before culture tried to erase our experience of nature. In this world, to touch another is to express love; there is no idea apart from feeling, and no feeling which does not ring through our bodies and our souls at once. — Susan Griffin

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. — Simone Elkeles

Getting drunk every Friday night and thinking that it's normal, only to get mad every Monday, looks normal only because most people are insane. It becomes abnormal when it affects your relationships
and you push people you want away with a smile and cry when they're gone. That's when a person should question her own sanity. If that still doesn't make one question it, then that's a very deep stage of insanity. That's not life. That's the scenario for an apocalyptic movie. — Robin Sacredfire

Usually Jacin was there, as he'd been all her life. He would make light of it and force her to laugh about the absurdity of whatever trick her mind was playing. He would talk her through each episode with his steady rationality, leaving no room for her to doubt his words. He would hold her and let her cry, and it was during one of these embraces when Winter realized with all the force and clarity of a solar flare - She was in love with him. She had always, always been in love with him. * — Marissa Meyer

Helen, don't."
"I thought it was only a misunderstanding. I thought if I spoke to you directly, everything would be s-sorted out, and - " Another sob choked her. She was so consumed by emotion that she was only vaguely aware of Rhys hovering around her, reaching for her and snatching his hands back.
"No. Don't cry. For God's sake, Helen - "
"I didn't mean to push you away. I didn't know what to do. How can I make you want me again?"
She expected a jeering reply, or perhaps even a pitying one. The last thing she expected was his shaken murmur.
"I do want you, cariad. I want you too damned much."
She blinked at him through a bewildered blur, breathing in mortifying hiccups, like a child. In the next moment, he had hauled her firmly against him.
"Hush, now." His voice dropped to a deeper octave, a brush of dark velvet against her ears. "Hush, bychan, little one, my dove. Nothing is worth your tears."
"You are. — Lisa Kleypas

She thought he cared too much. Sometimes Dolores could see that her son felt what other people were feeling. He was sympathetic, she knew that. But Silas managed to make his feelings about others into another kind of absence. You'd laugh, Silas would laugh. You'd cry, he'd start crying. It was like he was tuning in to a radio station. It took a moment for the distant signal to lock in, but once it did, he'd be right in sync with you. Only when he got angry, or hurt, did the signal fail and he'd become very present indeed, and very annoyed to have his calm broken. Then it was nothing but static. — Ari Berk

She believed that displays of emotion signaled a certain failure between people. The only person who could upset her, make her cry or laugh in the open, was my father. He could always unsettle her face with a stern admonition or an old joke or pun in Korean. Otherwise, I thought she possessed the most exquisite control over the muscles of her face. She seemed to have the subtle power of inflection over them, the way a tongue can move air. — Chang-rae Lee

She knows there are traps everywhere that can make her cry, she knows the way she dies a little every time someone asks her for change and she doesn't give it to them means that she's too soft for this world or perhaps just for this city, she feels so small here. — Emily St. John Mandel