I cry in the most joyful of moments. It's not tears of joy, either, it's the idea of knowing it won't happen any better, only worse, and in a way only the lowest can accomplish.

She is saddest when she smiles; happiest when she cries.

I roll into pure thought and sit and sulk at the wall. Tears don't, usually, come pouring from my eyes, but today they did because I loved. I loved someone I hated yesterday. I loved them and I don't know why. I loved them far beyond my imagination. I hated them yesterday with all of my heart; I could barely stand the sight of them. Today they're all that I think about, but I think I know why, now. Love and Hate are exactly the same. No matter how harsh they cherish both the good and the bad.

We cry. We cry when we reach happiness, anger, sadness, all emotions.

I've cried talking to you... over the phone. You say you hated it, but will you ever see me cry where you can see... Only if I'll allow it... So you probably will, 'cause I trust you in every way.

You don't know how I feel about you, but you know that I do. I from. I feel about you. Knowing that is really all you need. You already know how you feel about me, though you don't need to. You already know that I am just as far from, both, the love and hate of you as you feel for yourself. I feel the same about you as you feel about me.