From afar, I have cried watching my nation, sore with prejudice, slowly heal itself. I hurt along with America, my phantom pains only alleviated by work I do every day - art.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
When I arrived in France, I cried every day. Not because I was in France - I could have been anywhere - but because I was so far, far away from my parents. I missed them so much.
I have deep emotions about the American people. If I were to cry for anything, I would cry for them and the policies that they're about to face.
I cry very easily. It can be a movie, a phone conversation, a sunset - tears are words waiting to be written.
Some words having to do with the death of the people in the World Trade Center attack had been added, and when I got to it, I had this overwhelmingly emotional experience. I struggled to get through the words; tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on summer humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives.
I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.
The assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. made me very, very sad, and I mourned and I cried like many of our citizens did.
Ever since I was a child, I would start crying seeing anyone in pain.
When I first went to places where people were suffering from war and persecution, I felt ashamed of my feelings of sadness. I could see more possibilities in my life.
I have shed many tears of pain and indignation.
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