Quotes About Attachment

Love is funny. Even though you don't have that person anymore, you still have the feeling. You didn't lose your LOVE. You lost the tangible, tactile, sense-sational ability to experience the person or animal you lost.

People had to want to stay, choose to be with you, or it meant nothing. There were physical cages and there were emotional ones. Holding onto someone too tightly made it hard for them to breathe, and eventually, inevitably, they'd do one of two things: suffocate or run, leaving you feeling like hell either way.

And Barrons is Mac's as much as something like him is ever anyone's

I loved him. I hadn't wanted to, but I did, and it was too late to change because once my heart went somewhere, I couldn't pull it back. It's a glitch in my wiring.

Aye, Jessica, I like you. And I'm not just stuck with you. You fit me here, woman." He thumped his chest with his fist.

Och lass, doona you know? Your heart is my home..

I didn't say I didn't like you. 'Like' is such a puerile word. Mediocre people like things. The only question of any significant emotive content is: Can you live without it?

I lived with the constant awareness that if I cared about you and you figured it out, you'd leave.

I'd have given him a gift, only to snatch it away again, and counter to mainstream cliché, for some of us it's kinder to never have a thing at all than to have it and lose it. Some of us love too hard. Some of us don't seem to be able to hold that vital piece of ourselves back.

The only question of any significant emotive content is: can you live without it?

You can have the confounded shield if you love it that much, lass," Dageus said, sounding utterly bewildered.

Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?

That was my first clue that love can warp a hierarchy; the whole pyramid got flipped on its head. My pet, because she was mine, was at the top of the chain. I cared for the squirmy swamp rats in the most perfunctory way, with none of the love I felt for my red Seth.

She used to suffer these intense bouts of homesickness in her own bedroom.

How true can this sensation of unity really be if you need to leave everyone you care about to get it.

If Sawtooth could put words to the brambled knot forming in his throat, he would tell her: Girl, don't go. I am marooned in this place without you. What I feel for you is more than love. It's stronger, peninsular. You connect me to the Mainland. You are my leg of land over dark water.

We've all loved someone way too freakin' much.

let the story go, and still clutched F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise in my arms as if to let it go would

No. I simply love Charleston.

Didn't it belong to her just a little bit, not in a material way but in the way a house always belonged to all those who had lived and loved and suffered in it? As if it had kept behind a small part of your soul.

I understand the pull of this place, how you can't leave no matter how hard you want to. When your blood runs with salt water, you might as well drop anchor and get comfortable.

The more we loved, the more we lost ourselves.

You can take my heart, but I can't let you take my dog.

A man who has grown up in an orphanage cannot take a dog to the pound. Even if it is a Chihuahua.