What makes you cry?

I've just sniffed my way to the end of another novel: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. I enjoyed every page but the urge to sob was fairly overwhelming by the end. Don't think to yourself, 'Well, that's spoiled it for me now I know there won't be a happy ending.' You see, although (or maybe because) I lead a fortunate life and seldom have cause to weep in reality the slightest downturn in the fortunes of my fictional friends leads me to tears. They've only to drop an ice-cream cone down the front of their new sweater and I'm devastated. Some people (and at the risk of being sexist here I might suggest mostly females) love a good cry and actively seek out weepy movies as an outlet for their emotions. Not me. I hate to cry at the movies. I despise myself for becoming so emotionally attached to the characters in the books I read that I sob at their demise. So much pain in the world but we only cry over fiction. We can't afford to let reality touch us.

So what makes you cry? Your team losing? Peeling onions? A Sunday afternoon re-run of 'Carve Her Name With Pride?' Or just maudlin blogs?