Life & Wisdom Quote by Christopher Morley

Morley’s line flatters sadness by treating it as weather: natural, temporary, and, crucially, useful. The metaphor does a lot of quiet work. “Heavy hearts” aren’t framed as personal failure or moral weakness; they’re “heavy clouds,” a condition that forms when pressure builds. That’s a subtle permission slip in an era when emotional restraint read as character. If the sky can’t brute-force its way back to blue, neither can you.

The real engine here is the phrase “best relieved by the letting of a little water.” Morley chooses “letting,” not “spilling” or “breaking,” which turns tears into a controlled release rather than a humiliating collapse. “A little” keeps it modest: he’s not romanticizing melodrama, he’s advocating a small, socially survivable dose of vulnerability. That’s the subtext: crying isn’t surrender, it’s maintenance.

As a writer associated with urbane, early-20th-century literary culture, Morley often balanced sentiment with a wry practicality. This sentence lands in that register. It domesticates grief with a tidy, almost handyman-like solution: pressure valve, drain, reset. There’s also an implicit critique of stiff-upper-lip performance. Clouds that refuse to rain don’t become noble; they become oppressive. Likewise, hearts that refuse release don’t become strong; they become stuck.

The intent isn’t to sanctify sorrow, but to normalize its expression as a small, cleansing event - something the body knows how to do when the mind stops policing it.