With a sob he laid his head on my shoulder and cried like a wearied child, whilst he shook with emotion.
He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat, went straight out of the room without looking back, without a tear or a quiver or a pause; and I am crying like a baby.
I cried out, as in a rapture, “Happy nation,where every child hath at least a chance for being immortal!
I have actually seen the Prefect of this Province, who would rank with the governor of one of our states, and who is a brave, capable man, cry like a woman over the seeming hopelessness of the ghastly problem.
The cry is Giotto’s.
And now I am crying like a silly fool, when I know it comes from my husband's great love and from the good, good wishes of those other strong men.
"But then," cried I, after reflecting for a moment, "like the lignites, it must be as hard and as heavy as iron, and therefore will certainly not float."
Our senator was a statesman, and of course could not be expected to cry, like other mortals; and so he turned his back to the company, and looked out of the window, and seemed particularly busy in clearing his throat and wiping his spectacle-glasses, occasionally blowing his nose in a manner that was calculated to excite suspicion, had any one been in a state to observe critically.
The travelers turned towards the sound and wondered what it foreboded, when one of them said to his companion, “Let us proceed on our journey, my friend, for it is only the caw of a crow, and her cry, you know, is no omen.”
This cry, unconscious though it may be, is an eager, insistent demand for attention, an appeal to the minds and the feelings of others, an attempt to persuade others to act.
The gentleman who uttered the cries was evidently a belated Mormon.
No matter where I go, the spotlight of my mind Ever keeps turning on Thee; And in the battle din of activity My silent war cry is ever: God!
Exner cites the excellent example in which a mother becomes frightened while her child cries, not because the cry as such sounds so terrible as because of its combination with the consciousness that it comes from her own child and that something might have happened to it.
"But what most of all made me hold my hand and even abandon all idea of finishing it was an argument I put to myself taken from the plays that are acted now-a-days, which was in this wise: if those that are now in vogue, as well those that are pure invention as those founded on history, are, all or most of them, downright nonsense and things that have neither head nor tail, and yet the public listens to them with delight, and regards and cries them up as perfection when they are so far from it; and if the authors who write them, and the players who act them, say that this is what they must be, for the public wants this and will have nothing else; and that those that go by rule an
She was far too proud to cry like Addie Parker, whose eyes were already red and swollen, and whose cheeks were blotched with tears.
If it was my master, why did he cry out like a rat, and run from me?
as erst he cried In the Phlegraean warfare, and the bolts Launch he full aim’d at me with all his might, He never should enjoy a sweet revenge.”
Like Fleetwood he cried in the bitterness of his soul that God had hid his face from him.
Here was her mother, weeping, and she was looking upon the thing her mother was crying about as the most essential and delightful and desirable thing.
He had great difficulty in getting back to his seat, for his elbows were jerked at every step because of the glass he held in his hands, and he even spilt three-fourths on the shoulders of a Rouen lady in short sleeves, who feeling the cold liquid running down to her loins, uttered cries like a peacock, as if she were being assassinated.