Quotes About Attachment

I sometimes fancy, said Hilda, on whose susceptibility the scene always made a strong impression, that Rome--mere Rome--will crowd everything else out of my heart.

I shall do better amongst other faces; and these familiar ones, it need hardly be said, will do just as well without me.

In part, therefore, the attachment which I speak of is the mere sensuous sympathy of dust for dust.

You are fighting for what you can never obtain, and we are defending what we never mean to part with.

The question wasn't whether or not I cared about him; the question was, how much? I'm glad Tennyson didn't ask that, because then I'd have to ask myself; and I already knew the answer. I cared far more than was safe.

All I'm saying is that, unless you're immortal, nothing can really belong to you. The best you can hope for is to hold something for a while, but in the end you've got to give it back.

Divorce really stinks. It's like going to the store and buying clothes, wearing them for years and years, then returning them and asking for your money back...A store won't buy back a pair of used jeans, so how come people can trade each other in, like it was nothing? If your only pair of jeans is torn, you get a needle and some thread, and you sew them up, right?

He was loved, but only as one among a group of other beloved things.

Think of my kind old nurse you once were jealous of . . .

And yet women-good women--frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine, I wanted to keep.

Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you'll never meet them.

Love is a form of prejudice. I have too many other prejudices.

I will always carry you, inside, outside, on my fingertips, and at brain edges.

Well, people got attatched. Once you cut the umbilical cord they attatched to the other things. Sight, sound, sex, money, mirages, mothers, masturbation, murder, and Monday morning hangovers.

Your parents don't give you much love, do they?' 'I don't need that stuff,' I told her. 'Henry, everybody needs love.' 'I don't need anything.' 'You poor boy.

you've got to know when to let a woman go if you want to keep her,and if you don't want to keep her you let her go anyhow so it's always a process of letting go, one way or the other.

a bird no one wants. he's mine. my bird of pain. he doesn't sing. that bird swaying on the bough.

this will never leave me: that I had love and love died; a photo and a piece of tape is not much, I have learned late, but give me 14 days or 14 years, I will kill any man who would touch or take whatever's left.

I realized that her life her feelings for things had been ruined along the way and that I was no more than a temporary companion

did she love you? only as an extension of herself. what else can love be? the common sense to care very much for something very good. it needn't be related by bloodline. it can be a red beachball or a piece of buttered toast.

we finally got free of one another. it's sad but it's standard operating procedure (I am constantly confused by the lack of durability in human affairs).

E poi ci sono quelli che credono che le vecchie relazioni possano essere rivissute e fatte nuove. Ma perfavore se ti senti in quel modo non chiamare non scrivere non arrivare...

Ricorderò la tua piccola stanza, la sensazione di te, la luce nella finestra, i tuoi dischi, i tuoi libri, il nostro caffè al mattino, i nostri pomeriggi, le nostre notti, i nostri corpi attaccati, il piccolo flusso di energia, immediato e per sempre. Le tue gambe, le mie gambe, le tue braccia, le mie braccia, il tuo sorriso ed il tuo calore quando mi facevi ridere ancora.

I felt that even the sun belonged to my father, that I had no right to it because it was shining upon my father's house. I was like his roses, something that belonged to him and not to me.