Rachel Vorona Cote writes about the aesthetics of crying for The New Republic:
To cry this way—vigorously, heartily, vulgarly—reveals vulnerability at the same time that it conveys physical might and mettle. Our bodies can speak for themselves, says the ugly cry. Women do not exist merely through representation; we are neither watercolor nor clay. For every time I have shifted uncomfortably as Claire Danes dissolves into tears, I’ve noticed within myself a surge of vicarious pride. I recognize myself, and my agitation in knowing that my own well of emotion is at times too potent and charged for even me to grasp.