/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.12059142]

Has a book or a poem ever made /lit/ cry?

[Anonymous No.12059181]

>>12059142
AHAHAHAH imagine being soft

[Anonymous No.12059200]

>>12059142
The scene with Bishop Myriel and Jean Valjean in Les Miserables.

[Anonymous No.12059226]

>>12059142
the haiku Chiyo dedicated to her dead son

[Anonymous No.12059235]

The apple on its bough is her desire,--
Shining suspension, mimic of the sun.
The bough has caught her breath up, and her voice,
Dumbly articulate in the slant and rise
Of branch on branch above her, blurs her eyes.
She is prisoner of the tree and its green fingers.

And so she comes to dream herself the tree,
The wind possessing her, weaving her young veins,
Holding her to the sky and its quick blue,
Drowning the fever of her hands in sunlight.
She has no memory, nor fear, nor hope
Beyond the grass and shadows at her feet.

[Anonymous No.12059248]

>>12059142
Almost cried when mishkin told that story about the girl in the swiss village

[Anonymous No.12059299]

>>12059142
The young Hitler I knew
Augustine's Confessions
A part in The Idiot
The Leopard
The part were Odysseus meets Argos one last time
Some parts of the Aeneid
Leopardi's Zibaldone, his poetry, even the Operette morali

Oh boy I'm a little bitch

[Anonymous No.12059309]

>>12059248
Exactly that part of the Idiot btw

[Anonymous No.12059321]

>>12059142
Many of them.

The part in 1984 when the torture intensifies and the protagonist is forced to renounce even to his most basic perceptions of reality.

The Juan Lopez and John Ward poem by Borges.

But must times I cried with non-fictional books rather than poems or stories.

[Anonymous No.12059327]

books yes, all the time
poems no
poems are too formal and technical for me to get emotional to

[Anonymous No.12059370]

Yeah, when I reread The Idiot, the section about Marie in Switzerland made me cry. I just reread it a bit and I feel tears welling up again. It's the way the children speak french, I can hear them with innocent voices "Notre bonne Marie!".
One of my favorite books, and one of the best scenes from it

[Anonymous No.12059381]

>>12059299
>The young Hitler I knew
what part?

>Augustine's Confessions
worth reading?

[Anonymous No.12059386]

>>12059142
torture scene in The Bridge on the Drina

[Anonymous No.12059408]

>>12059142
the part from don quixote where cardenio is driven mad and roams the mountains

william shakespeare apparently did a play based on it

[Anonymous No.12059512]

>>12059142

The Mother

“When your mother has grown older,
When her dear, faithful eyes
no longer see life as they once did,
When her feet, grown tired,
No longer want to carry her as she walks –

Then lend her your arm in support,
Escort her with happy pleasure.
The hour will come when, weeping, you
Must accompany her on her final walk.

And if she asks you something,
Then give her an answer.
And if she asks again, then speak!
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
Not impatiently, but with gentle calm.

And if she cannot understand you properly
Explain all to her happily.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
When her mouth asks for nothing more.”

Adolf Hitler, 1923.

[Anonymous No.12059518]

>>12059381
When August meets Hitler's dying mother and she entrusts his son to him.
But most of it really touched my chords.

Augustine's Confessions is a beautiful book to read an reread, but the first time you'll never forget in particular if you are a young man.

[Anonymous No.12059526]

>>12059512
what a coincidence

[Anonymous No.12059557]

>>12059512
strange that he would write this the year he tried his failed putsch

or maybe he wrote it in prison?

[Anonymous No.12059563]

>>12059142

Not a poem but there was this old roman eulogy dedicated to a a dog

[Anonymous No.12059573]

>>12059512
I thought this was a joke at first and burst out laughing. Turns out he actually did write it.

[Anonymous No.12059583]

>>12059573
Watch Adolf Hitler: The Greatest Story Never Told
>inb4 gb2pol
Faggot, use your head. Even if half the doc is fake, propaganda is a very real thing. Read The Patton Papers (collection of writings by General Patton), and take a look at this:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Legend

[Anonymous No.12059604]

>>12059142
A lot of things.

[Anonymous No.12059615]

>>12059604
*Not that pic, though, nor this one

[Anonymous No.12059620]

>>12059142
Were you the guy who made the scary thread?

[Anonymous No.12059623]

I know I have, but I can't remember which anymore. The last book I read that left me heartbroken was Death on the Nile

[Anonymous No.12059642]

>>12059142
Rainbow Bridge, when my cat of 16 years passed away.

[Anonymous No.12059651]

Only this. When Lee Scoresby dies

[Anonymous No.12059653]

I am not a cat person but this monologue of a cat that's about to pass away makes me cry every time


>An Old Cat's Dying Soliloquy

Years saw me still Acasto’s mansion grace,
The gentlest, fondest of the tabby race;
Before him frisking through the garden glade,
Or at his feet in quiet slumber laid;
Praised for my glossy back of zebra streak,
And wreaths of jet encircling round my neck;
Soft paws that ne’er extend the clawing nail,
The snowy whisker and the sinuous tail;
Now feeble age each glazing eyeball dims,
And pain has stiffened these once supple limbs;
Fate of eight lives the forfeit gasp obtains,
And e’en the ninth creeps languid through my veins.
Much sure of good the future has in store,
When on my master’s hearth I bask no more,
In those blest climes, where fishes oft forsake
The winding river and the glassy lake;
There, as our silent-footed race behold
The crimson spots and fins of lucid gold,
Venturing without the shielding waves to play,
They gasp on shelving banks, our easy prey:
While birds unwinged hop careless o’er the ground,
And the plump mouse incessant trots around,
Near wells of cream that mortals never skim,
Warm marum creeping round their shallow brim;
Where green valerian tufts, luxuriant spread,
Cleanse the sleek hide and form the fragrant bed.
Yet, stern dispenser of the final blow,
Before thou lay’st an aged grimalkin low,
Bend to her last request a gracious ear,
Some days, some few short days, to linger here;
So to the guardian of his tabby’s weal
Shall softest purrs these tender truths reveal:
‘Ne’er shall thy now expiring puss forget
To thy kind care her long-enduring debt,
Nor shall the joys that painless realms decree
Efface the comforts once bestowed by thee;
To countless mice thy chicken-bones preferred,
Thy toast to golden fish and wingless bird;
O’er marum borders and valerian bed
Thy Selima shall bend her moping head,
Sigh that no more she climbs, with grateful glee,
Thy downy sofa and thy cradling knee;
Nay, e’en at founts of cream shall sullen swear,
Since thou, her more loved master, art not there.’

[Anonymous No.12059663]

>>12059142
the story about the paralyzed woman in notes from a hunter's sketchbook

[Anonymous No.12059681]

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

...

[Anonymous No.12059702]

>>12059142
No recently but this morning a dog showed up at my door (We own a b&b).
When I opened he got up and tried to come in which I couldn't allow him as I thought it was just some stary seeking shelter from the rain and I didn't give it much thought anyways because I was late for work.
When I came home I didn't findn it there but the iron door of our b&b was full of scratches and paws were on the glass.
I went to the aprtment me and my family we live in and asked my parents about it.
Mom said it didn't leave the whole morning and from time to time she would try desperately to come in.
My mother found it strange and went on asking every guest wether the dog belonged to them, none said yes.
The fact she wanted so much to be let in could only signify her owner was once in one of our rooms.
My mother instantly thought of a family that was recently evicted and stayed at us 1 or 2 days.
They probably had this dog and tried abandoned him ain the countryside as they couldn't keep it, but he found his way to our place following their smell.
My father though was ignorant of this and thought of her as some persistent stray so he badly and chased her away.
Heartbroken I went around town walking my dog in search of her for a hour or so but I had no succes.
I'll look for her some more tomorrow.

[Anonymous No.12059714]

>>12059248
HOLY SHIT YESS this brought me to tears, bless you marie

[Anonymous No.12059716]

>>12059681
neruda?

[Anonymous No.12059734]

>>12059142
St. Elizabeth the Neomartyr's life made me cry the first time I read it.
Not a book but I also cried when I read about the 20 Copts +1 black guy who were executed by ISIL a few years back, especially because that one Ghanan/Chadian guy was willingly martyred with them even though he may not have been a Christian.

[Anonymous No.12059735]

>>12059248
I didnt cause i read magarshack and it was mostly weird/depressing

[Anonymous No.12059739]

>>12059702
Fake and gay

[Anonymous No.12059744]

>>12059739
It's true.
I'll post picture of the door later

[Anonymous No.12059748]

>>12059142
My diary desu

[Anonymous No.12059750]

>>12059642
I didn't even cry when my dog died. I felt more relieved than anything, because he suffered a lot longer than he should have.

[Anonymous No.12059753]

>>12059750
i didnt cry but the death of my cat depressed me. The cat depressed me when it was alive as well. poor cat

[Anonymous No.12059766]

>>12059142
No, the only art that has that power is classical music

[Anonymous No.12059786]

When kitty said no to levin

[Anonymous No.12059789]

>>12059739
They cleaned so it's hardly visible and it's dark outside but some scratch marks are still there.

[Anonymous No.12059793]

>>12059789

[Anonymous No.12059809]

>>12059766
post some

[Anonymous No.12059823]

>>12059809
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFPwm0e_K98&ytbChannel=IlaryRhineKlange
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-gFuNi8Doo&t=258s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3EWpHP8y_I
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdH0FAiz1Qk&t=1044s
Here you go

[Anonymous No.12059834]

>>12059702
Christ

[Anonymous No.12059876]

>>12059823
don't really find these to be saddening

the only classical music that have made me feel sadness have been made by contemporary composers such as ricther and einaudi

i can't really get into older classical music and that in itself is pretty sad

[Anonymous No.12059890]

>>12059702
>cat really sick
>about to die
>grandmother says, in a pitiful manner, that it wanted to come in the house (lives in the garage) one last time
>it died alone
At least my grandmother felt bad, but I do wish he could have had some human comfort before he died.
>>12059766
>with the only power
Objectively wrong. My vidence? I cry all the time at stories.
>>12059809
faget
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SY3Kxf7ZTeI

[Anonymous No.12059894]

>>12059876
To be honest only the first and the last have made me cry, both are a musical journeys in completely different ways.

Strauss Symphonic Poem condenses in half an hour a philosophical journey full of completely different fellings. Scriabin's Mysterium is a work very hard to define but it was created with the intention to accompany a mystical act after which the humankind would evolve into more nobler beings. I'ts very long but comprises the most delicate and beautiful moments I have ever experienced and also some of the most violent and destructive music I have ever heard

[Anonymous No.12059898]

>>12059793
>>12059789
*Also, please enjoy my OC ~desu >>12059890

[Anonymous No.12059899]

>>12059248
was about to post this

[Anonymous No.12060332]

>>12059370
Damn...that's some good stuff.

[Anonymous No.12060824]

>>12059876
>ricther and einaudi
I like you anon.
Oltremare gives me feels I can't quite explain. There's a part in the song that, for me, just feels like home.

[Anonymous No.12060874]

I cannot lie by your fire by Robinson Jeffers

[Anonymous No.12061250]

Gaspard Hauser chante:

Je suis venu, calme orphelin,
Riche de mes seuls yeux tranquilles,
Vers les hommes des grandes villes:
Ils ne m'ont pas trouvé malin.

A vingt ans un trouble nouveau
Sous le nom d'amoureuses flammes
M'a fait trouver belles les femmes:
Elles ne m'ont pas trouvé beau.

Bien que sans patrie et sans roi
Et très brave ne l'étant guère,
J'ai voulu mourir à la guerre:
La mort n'a pas voulu de moi.

Suis-je né trop tôt ou trop tard ?
Qu'est-ce que je fais en ce monde ?
Ô vous tous, ma peine est profonde:
Priez pour le pauvre Gaspard !

[Anonymous No.12061549]

>>12061250
That wasn't very good though.

[Anonymous No.12061929]

I don't want to do anything
I tried
but my absence of will keeps me from living
and from committing suicide

[Anonymous No.12062005]

>>12059894
Strauss wrote ten pieces regarded as being tone poems, bucko.

[Anonymous No.12062066]

>>12061549
Je suis incel.

[Anonymous No.12062094]

3rd movement of Górecki's symfonia pieśni żałosnych, the libretto is an Opole folk song, particularly the final 3 stanze:

Moze nieborocek
lezy kaj w dołecku.
a mógłby se lygać
na swoim przypiecku.

Ej, ćwierkeycie mu tam,
wy ptosecki boze,
kiedy mamulicka
znalezć go nie moze.

A ty, boze kwiecie,
kwitnijze w około,
niech sie synockowi
choć lezy wesoło.

The text of the conceptually and thematically similar Kindertotenlieder cycle of Mahler are Rückert poems which are nowhere near as moving.

[Anonymous No.12062100]

“Just what I was thinking.
You go in first, and leave me here a little.
But as for blows and missiles,
I am no tyro at these things. I learned
to keep my head in hardship—years of war
and years at sea. Let this new trial come.
The cruel belly, can you hide its ache?
How many bitter days it brings! Long ships
with good stout planks athwart—would fighters rig them
to ride the barren sea, except for hunger?
Seawolves—woe to their enemies!”

While he spoke
an old hound, lying near, pricked up his ears
and lifted up his muzzle. This was Argos,
trained as a puppy by Odysseus,
but never taken on a hunt before
his master sailed for Troy. The young men, afterward,
hunted wild goats with him, and hare, and deer,
but he had grown old in his master’s absence.
Treated as rubbish now, he lay at last
upon a mass of dung before the gates—
manure of mules and cows, piled there until
fieldhands could spread it on the king’s estate.
Abandoned there, and half destroyed with flies,
old Argos lay.

But when he knew he heard
Odysseus’ voice nearby, he did his best
to wag his tail, nose down, with flattened ears,
having no strength to move nearer his master.
And the man looked away,
wiping a salt tear from his cheek; but he
hid this from Eumaios. Then he said:

“I marvel that they leave this hound to lie
here on the dung pile;
he would have been a fine dog, from the look of him,
though I can’t say as to his power and speed
when he was young. You find the same good build
in house dogs, table dogs landowners keep
all for style.”

And you replied, Eumaios:
“A hunter owned him—but the man is dead
in some far place. If this old hound could show
the form he had when Lord Odysseus left him,
going to Troy, you’d see him swift and strong.
He never shrank from any savage thing
he’d brought to bay in the deep woods; on the scent
no other dog kept up with him. Now misery
has him in leash. His owner died abroad,
and here the women slaves will take no care of him.
You know how servants are: without a master
they have no will to labor, or excel.
For Zeus who views the wide world takes away
half the manhood of a man, that day
he goes into captivity and slavery.”

Eumaios crossed the court and went straight forward
into the mégaron among the suitors;
but death and darkness in that instant closed
the eyes of Argos, who had seen his master,
Odysseus, after twenty years.

[Anonymous No.12062218]

>>12060332
You should definitely read The Idiot then, that little screenshot hardly does it justice. There is another scene later in the book that hits as hard, someone has a delusional breakdown. Sad. A lot of amazing scenes in it

[Anonymous No.12062274]

>>12061250
yes yes, you know French, congrats

[Anonymous No.12062291]

The last few pages of The Road.

[Anonymous No.12062330]

>>12062218
Ah yes, that horrible scene.
"The ball is over"

[Anonymous No.12062379]

All the damn time

I just read the Stranger for the first time, and I cried several times for Mersault's alienation and disconnectedness from himself and society because it's relatable

What can I say, I'm an emotional man

[Anonymous No.12062582]

Gogol's overcoat, the famous transition from funny af to serious and heartbreaking. Solidifies the greatness of russian literature for me, and gets me every fucking time i read it.

When Akaky gets fed up with the bullying he endures at the office and snaps at them

'No respect at all was shown to him in the department. The porters, far from getting up from their seats when he came in, took no more notice of him than if a simple fly had flown across the vestibule. His superiors treated him with a sort of domineering chilliness. The head clerk's assistant used to throw papers under his nose without even saying "Copy this" or "Here is an interesting, nice little case" or some agreeable remark of the sort, as is usually done in well-behaved offices. And he would take it, gazing only at the paper without looking to see who had put it there and whether he had the right to do so; he would take it and at once set to work to copy it. The young clerks jeered and made jokes at him to the best of their clerkly wit, and told before his face all sorts of stories of their own invention about him; they would say of his landlady, an old woman of seventy, that she beat him, would enquire when the wedding was to take place, and would scatter bits of paper on his head, calling them snow. Akaky Akakyevitch never answered a word, however, but behaved as though there were no one there. It had no influence on his work even; in the midst of all this teasing, he never made a single mistake in his copying. Only when the jokes were too unbearable, when they jolted his arm and prevented him from going on with his work, he would bring out "Leave me alone! Why do you insult me?" and there was something strange in the words and in the voice in which they were uttered. There was a note in it of something that aroused compassion, so that one young man, new to the office, who, following the example of the rest, had allowed himself to mock him, suddenly stopped as though cut to the heart, and from that time forth, everything was, as it were, changed and appeared in a different light to him. Some unnatural force seemed to thrust him away from the companions with whom he had become acquainted, accepting them as well-bred, polished people. And long afterwards, at moments of the greatest gaiety, the figure of the humble little clerk with a bald patch on his head rose before him with his heart-rending words: "Leave me alone! Why do you insult me?" and in those heart-rending words he heard others: "I am your brother." And the poor young man hid his face in his hands, and mamy times afterwards in his life he shuddered, seeing how much inhumanity there is in man, how much savage brutality lies under refined, cultured politeness, and, my god! even in a man whom the world accepts as a gentleman and a man of honour.'

[Anonymous No.12062825]

>>12062379
I maintain that The Stranger is worth reading if only for Meursalt’s end monologue alone.

[Anonymous No.12063267]

in war and peace when andrei gets shot at the battle of austerlitz
and during sirens chapter of ulysses

[Anonymous No.12063429]

>>12059142
I cry whenever I think about this passage from Fahrenheit 451 because it reminds me of people I know who have died. I also sometimes tear up at hearing or reading Shelley's Adonais.

“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I’ve never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands? He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.”

[Anonymous No.12063474]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wc03l3zt3t4

[Anonymous No.12063496]

>>12059142
As I approached the friendly abyss, I grew aware of a melodious unity of sounds rising like vapor from a small mining town that lay at my feet, in a fold of the valley. One could make out the geometry of the streets between blocks of red and gray roofs, and green puffs of trees, and a serpentine stream, and the rich, ore-like glitter of the city dump,and beyond the town, roads crisscrossing the crazy quilt of dark and pale fields, and behind it all, great timbered mountains. But even brighter than those quietly rejoicing colors — for there are colors and shades that seem to enjoy themselves in good company — both brighter and dreamier to the ear than they were to the eye, was that vapory vibration of accumulated sounds that never ceased for a moment, as it rose to the lip of granite where I stood wiping my foul mouth. And soon I realized that all these sounds were of one nature, that no other sounds but these came from the streets of the transparent town, with the women at home and the men away. Reader! What I heard was but the melody of children at play, nothing but that, and so limpid was the air that within this vapor of blended voices, majestic and minute, remote and magically near, frank and divinely enigmatic — one could hear now and then, as if re-leased, an almost articulate spurt of vivid laughter, or the crack of a bat, or the clatter of a toy wagon, but it was all really too far for the eye to distinguish any movement in the lightly etched streets. I stood listening to that musical vibration from my lofty slope, to those flashes of separate cries with a kind of demure murmur for background,and then I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita’s absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that concord.

[Anonymous No.12063715]

>>12059142
There's this book at the library full of water colour paintings of Japanese crabs. It was made by the widow of a marine biologist. It was really sweet.

[Anonymous No.12063916]

>>12062291
In All the Pretty Horses when Alejandra leaves on the train and we follow John Grady Cole get drunk and there's that quote about for every good thing in the world one must endure so much more sadness or something similar

[Anonymous No.12063973]

>>12062066
les incel et moi

[Anonymous No.12065639]

I cried like a little faggot at the end of Narcissus and Goldmund. Hesse shit makes me teary in general.

[Anonymous No.12065917]

>>12059142
The Apology

[Anonymous No.12065923]

>>12059181
Imagine acting your entire life until one day a realization befalls you that you’ve nothing but regret and broken dreams

[Anonymous No.12066026]

>>12059142
This dewdrop world --
It may be a dewdrop,
And yet -- and yet --

[Anonymous No.12066608]

Only once. After my mother died, I was recommended the book Wild by Cheryl Strayed. There's one scene where she's walking her mother out of the house to take her to the hospital for the last time and her mother says, "Bye, house."

...it reminded me so much of the last few weeks of my mother's life that I couldn't help myself and started crying and reread it over and over. I admit this with shame, but I admit it.

[Anonymous No.12066651]

>When Caddy doesn't smell like flowers anymore
>When Quentin tries to make a suicide pact with Caddy
>When Dilsey walks home from the Easter Sunday service

[Anonymous No.12066683]

Loneliness.
It’s good to be alone. It’s good to shut the door behind one and not be with other people for a while. It hasn’t always been like this. In childhood being alone was a defect or a failing, often painful. If you were alone it was because no one wanted to be with you or because there was no one to be with. The absence of others was unequivocally negative. Several people together was good, alone was bad, that was the rule. And yet I never asked myself how this applied to my father, who spent so much time alone. He was a supreme being, everything about him was as it should be, it never occurred to me that his solitude too could be a defect or a flaw, something painful. He had no friends, only colleagues, and he spent most evenings alone in the basement recreation room, where he listened to music or worked on his stamp collection. He shunned social intimacy, he never sat on a bus, never had his hair cut at a hairdresser’s, he was never one of the parents who drove to football matches with a carload of kids. At the time I didn’t notice this. Not until he died and we found his diary was I able to see his life in that light. Loneliness concerned him, he had thought about it a great deal. “I have always been able to recognise the lonely,” he wrote in his diary. “They don’t walk the same way as other people. It is as if they don’t carry any joy, any spark within themselves, whether they are women or men.” In another entry he wrote, “I am looking for a word for the opposite of loneliness. I would like to find a different word to love, which is far too overworked and inadequate. Tenderness, peace of mind and soul, togetherness?” Togetherness was a good word for it. It is the opposite of loneliness. Why he never felt it I don’t know. It is one of the good feelings in life, perhaps the best. And yet I often do as he did, close the door behind me to be alone. I know why I do it, it’s good to be alone, for a few hours to be exempt from all the complicated bonds, all the conflicts, great and small, all the demands and expectations, wills and desires that build up between people, and which after only a short time become so densely intertwined that the room for reflection and for action are both restricted. If everything that stirs between people made a sound, it would be like a chorus, a great murmur of voices would rise from even the faintest glimmer in the eyes. Surely he too must have felt this? Perhaps more powerfully than I do? For he started drinking, and drinking muffles this chorus and makes it possible to be with other people without hearing it. Yes, that must be it. For the sentence he ended that diary entry with, I could never have written. He wrote, “In brief, what I have just now so clumsily tried to express is that I have always been a lonely man.” Or, the thought strikes me now with horror, maybe it was the other way round?

[Anonymous No.12067467]

>>12059142
>The ending of Tolstoy's Master and Man
>The last paragraph of De Profundis
>Lord Tennyson's Ulysses
>That short story in Bolano's Last Evenings on Earth about the failed poet who helps the resistance in during the pogroms or something and everyone still rejects him

[Anonymous No.12067543]

>>12059142
"And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise."
Too bad the movie messed this up completely

[Anonymous No.12067558]

>>12063496
also this

[Anonymous No.12067685]

>>12059327
If a top fighter beat the fuck out of you with exquisite form and technique, you would get emotional.

[Anonymous No.12067705]

>>12059142
Maria, it isn`t great

[Anonymous No.12067757]

I was walking in a forest listening to I Am Legend last week, when it got to the part where Robert was reading Ruth's letter and he read the part where she said "When we were together in the darkness, close to each other, I wasn’t spying on you. I was loving you." that part broke my heart and i was on the verge of tears, literally had to find a quiet spot to collect myself so other walkers wouldn't see me crying.

Very relatable book, lots of feels. Already ordered the graphic novel so I can read it all over again.

[Anonymous No.12067870]

That part in Johnny Got His Gun where Johnny blinks to the military general to kill him. In fact, that entire book had me in tears in some parts.

[Anonymous No.12067910]

>>12059142
Don’t laugh but 7yr old me cried at the end of white fang

[Anonymous No.12067932]

>>12067910
A kindred spirit

[Anonymous No.12068019]

I cried reading the lion the witch and the wardrobe

[Anonymous No.12068037]

>>12059142
Yeah
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwGnCIdHQH0

RIP Ranger, you were a good boy, and I miss you.

[Anonymous No.12068058]

A girl gave me reading of a poem and I been falling over here ever since. I miss her right now. She has good taste in /lit/ too. I miss her, she'd been sulking lately :'|

[Anonymous No.12068376]

>>12062825
I agree. I don't particularly like Camus, but I think it's the better of his works because it's more personal, which suits his undetailed and sort of surreal style.

Unfortunately, I lost my copy of The Rebel on a train. I kind of laughed at the blurb on the back calling it "first and foremost an excellent book of French logic" since it admits itself that it is built on an irreconcilable contradiction in the first chapter, but I identified with and appreciated the sentiment behind his words.

[Anonymous No.12068385]

>>12059142
The suicide at the end of Elementary Particles made me shed tears yeah. I've never bawled or anything because of a book but it broke something inside me. The very end The Metamorphosis almost made me scream in a rage, was too relatable, but I controlled myself and sort of thought it was dark humor, didn't make me laugh like Kafka said his works elicited from him but I could see how it could from an absurdist and macabre perspective.

[Anonymous No.12068401]

Lifted up
Reflective in returning love you sing
Errant days filled me
Fed me illusion's gate
In temperate stream
Welled up within me
A hunger uncurbed by nature's calling
Seven sacraments to song
Versed in Christ
Should strength desert me
They'll come
They come
Lifted up
Reflected in returning love you sing
Heaven waits
Someday Christendom may come
Westward
Evening sun recedent
Set my resting vow
Hold in open heart

[Anonymous No.12068409]

All of my life I dreamed of meeting one
with immense beauty, and once I found her
I would charm her and she'd be mine
forever.

I have found her and indeed she is all
I wished for and more but she is
not charmed nor intrigued. Then I
think 2 myself "What can I offer her?"
The tears warm my eyes and blur my
vision. I stick 2 my stance of bravado
and give her the same uninterested look
she gave me. She was so beautiful
But what can I offer her

[Anonymous No.12068411]

>>12068385
Humor doesn't always have to make you laugh
But what was the ending to metamorphosis again? I just remember something weird about the sister stretching her body on a train or something like that

[Anonymous No.12068537]

He fell in October, 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: All quiet on the Western Front.

He had fallen forward and lay on the earth as though sleeping. Turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.

[Anonymous No.12068585]

>>12059370
pretty boring. the style is nonexistent. reminds me of that translation:
"Six-word short story

The baby died.
Isn't that sad?"

[Anonymous No.12068598]

I cried at the end of a mice and men when I was like 14.

The poem that makes me most emotional is the hyacinth girl section in the waste land

[Anonymous No.12068599]

>>12068585
Unintelligent comment

[Anonymous No.12068622]

>>12059876
einaudi may as well be yann tiersen compared to brahms and schubert. you should broaden your listening horizons my guy

[Anonymous No.12068638]

>>12066608
"bye house" sounds like something you say when you're moving out, i.e. a phrase reserved for moments of deep upheaval and transition. it is very apt for the departing soul

[Anonymous No.12068705]

>>12068599
>yfw poast

[Anonymous No.12068795]

>>12059653
Something about cat poems get me too. This poem hurt me every time I read it when I was losing my cat

The Cats Will Know

Rain will fall again
on your smooth pavement,
a light rain like
a breath or a step.
The breeze and the dawn
will flourish again
when you return,
as if beneath your step.
Between flowers and sills
the cats will know.

There will be other days,
there will be other voices.
You will smile alone.
The cats will know.
You will hear words
old and spent and useless
like costumes left over
from yesterday’s parties.

You too will make gestures.
You’ll answer with words—
face of springtime,
you too will make gestures.

The cats will know,
face of springtime;
and the light rain
and the hyacinth dawn
that wrench the heart of him
who hopes no more for you—
they are the sad smile
you smile by yourself.

There will be other days,
other voices and renewals.
Face of springtime,
we will suffer at daybreak.

[Anonymous No.12068895]

>>12059200
This

[Anonymous No.12070190]

>>12059181
Imagine having no emotions

[Anonymous No.12070311]

>>12059181

[Anonymous No.12070469]

I've never been brought to actual tears by a book; I haven't cried for 5 - 6 years at this point, not sure why, and I wish I could. One scene that did affect me quite a bit emotionally, which is as close as we're gonna get to tears with me, was from Camus' The Plague when Jean Tarrou, the eternal idealist, dies of the titular disease.

[Anonymous No.12070494]

unironically Stoner

[Anonymous No.12070554]

>>12070494
this

[Anonymous No.12070610]

>>12059651
I remember being 13 years old and sitting alone on the trundle bednin my room, and how the light of the day looked when I finished The Amber Spyglass. When Will and Lyra we’re separated in different universes forever I cried like a baby. Also the chapter where they go to the underworld and Lyra is forced to leave Pantelaymon on the gore and the to of them are ripped apart. He turns into an actual crying puppy.

Phillip Pullman was always my favorite childryUthir because unlike JK Rowling he recognizes the intelligence of children, and is willing to challenge them as readers in multiple capacities.

[Anonymous No.12070619]

I teared up during the end of Stoner.

[Anonymous No.12070685]

>>12059142
to the extent of weeping, no. but I've teared up from reading a lot of things, like some passages from One Hundred Years of Solitude, or the dog in the Odyssey
>>12070469
you sound like you're badly depressed, not that that's a surprise if you're posting on 4chan

[Anonymous No.12070806]

>>12059181
You'll learn to regret this as I have.
Great emotion, both positive and negative, is true humanity.

Little of both leaves you as a husk. Or a rock, slowly crumbling.

[Anonymous No.12070836]

>>12068585
Can you imagine being so engrossed in the humanities that you lose yours?

I'm a STEM major who is probably on the spectrum and has flattened affect no matter what, and I know enough about the human experience to feel sadness reading something like that. That style would interfere with your sympathetic response certainly makes you more autistic than I might be (and I may be quite autistic). If you can't feel sympathy for the pure love of children, or a dying person still desperately in love, there's only one of a few things going on: 1) you're a total douche-bag 2) you have some kind of cognitive-developmental disorder 3) you're a child with no life experience at all 4) you're an adult with no life experience at all, and therefore functionally a child

[Anonymous No.12070839]

When I was a kid Where the Red Fern Grows made my sob like a bitch.

[Anonymous No.12071129]

>>12070836
I've read enough fiction that I can't take these emotion-cues at face value anymore. This is where I differ from you. It's not enough for an author to simply describe a sad scene. The style must surprise me with it. Dostoevsky is a terribly boring stylist in translation. I will say that I don't read Russian and I highly doubt anyone bullshitting about this passage does either. But I know the limits. Didn't Bloom say When you read Garnett's Dostoevsky, you're only reading Garnett? I will also say that I've been moved to tears by certain other literary experiences. Reading Crusoe in England. The Overcoat. The first time I read Bartleby. Bolano's shorts. Some of Dennis Johnson. Hearing someone tell aloud The Great Silence by Ted Chiang. Autism has nothing to do with it. Autism on this board is a catchall for people who don't understand social cues. My cues are simply more refined than yours.

[Anonymous No.12071155]

>>12059142
The ending of Infinite Jest had me sobbing

[Anonymous No.12071343]

Are you all girls? Someone in Madrid?

[Anonymous No.12071623]

>>12059142
When I was young, I got deathly sick due to a case of malpractice and had to move 5 states away back home to fight for my life. The whole ordeal ended my first real relationship, because I thought I was going to die and didn’t want to drag her through that. The first time I read this poem I was lying in a hospital bed, and it absolutely destroyed me:

Unable to perceive the shape of you,
I find you all around me
Your presence fills my eyes with your love
It humbles my heart
For you, are everywhere

[Anonymous No.12071640]

Last I can remember was tearing up the second time through reading The Sound and the Fury, specifically when Caddy is telling Benjy about santy claus.

[Anonymous No.12072292]

Notes from Underground, you all know the scene.

[Anonymous No.12072585]

Ach, mein Sinn,
Wo willt du endlich hin,
Wo soll ich mich erquicken?
Bleib ich hier,
Oder wünsch ich mir
Berg und Hügel auf den Rücken?
Bei der Welt ist gar kein Rat,
Und im Herzen
Stehn die Schmerzen
Meiner Missetat,
Weil der Knecht den Herrn verleugnet hat.

https://webdocs.cs.ualberta.ca/~wfb/cantatas/245.html

[Anonymous No.12072596]

>>12070685
>you sound like you're badly depressed, not that that's a surprise if you're posting on 4chan
I don't think I am. I think I'm just very bottled up, or repressed if you will.

When I say I wish I could cry, I do mean it.

[Anonymous No.12072632]

>>12071623
pretty sure that pic is gay

[Anonymous No.12072646]

>>12059142
i am pretty sure big sur by kerouac made me tear up. hits home.
cime and punishnent by dostoyevsky did too.

[Anonymous No.12072667]

>>12059142
This wrecked me.

[Anonymous No.12073176]

>>12072596
teenage boys act like "toxic masculinity" is a boogeyman then they wonder why they are unable to cathartically express sadness

[Anonymous No.12073443]

P.S. please if you get a chanse put some flowrs on Algernons grave in the bak yard.

[Anonymous No.12073657]

>>12072632
I see slight boob. I think we’re good.

[Anonymous No.12073854]

>>12070685
>or the dog in the Odyssey

This, as well as the reunion with his father and his son.

[Anonymous No.12074142]

>>12059142
>this movie made me cry omg lulz
OP some people can process a poem by not allowing a swings of emotions get a hold of them. Fp has a point.

[Anonymous No.12074193]

Norwegian Wood

[Anonymous No.12074568]

My first read through of A Widow for One Year by John Irving. Ruth's relationship with her father reminds me of my own and hurt sometimes.

[Anonymous No.12074626]

>>12059876
>ricther [sic] and einaudi

literally the Deepak Chopra of music

[Anonymous No.12074630]

dog named bo by James Stewart

[Anonymous No.12074633]

>>12063267
why the sirens chapter?

[Anonymous No.12075069]

>>12074630
fuck

[Anonymous No.12075178]

>>12059876
>einaudi
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA