Weeping

I cannot hear such a story without weeping.

Oh my! Is she weeping for joy?

We couldn't help weeping.

People were weeping at the news of his death.

She was weeping alone.

She was weeping with pain.

Why, is she weeping for joy?

But, knowing precisely sadness and love and death, and that they are vain images when we observe them from the calm space where we should shut ourselves in, he kept on weeping, and desiring love, and fearing death.

I was sad when she was weeping.

We were eating while weeping.

Their constant weepings kept us awake.

For a man raised since birth to be strong, resolute, spare with words, and never to bow to the weepings and handwringings of the weaker sex, he had poured out his heart in that letter.