“I remembered the fox. One runs the risk of crying a bit if one allows oneself to be tamed.” 

True sorrow is as rare as true love

I do not ask how the wounded person feels. I myself become the wounded.

I cry so much less than I used to. I used to be one of the most teary people.

Beauty is strangely various. There is the beauty of light and joy and strength exulting; but there is also the beauty of shade, of sorrow and sadness, and of humility oppressed.