Quotes About Attachment

She knew, too, that love didn't evaporate. It faded, perhaps, lost its weight like bones left out in the sun, but it didn't go away.

She had this terrible, irrational fear that if she let go of him she would never touch him again and the thought of that was paralyzing.

Whenever he had to leave her, Boltzmann, who was tender-hearted, was not able to hold back his tears.

It's suffering because we must lose what we have and are attached to. Because everything that begins must end. What causes us to suffer is not in the past or the future: it is here, now, in our memory, in our expectations. We long for timelessness, we endure the passing of time: we suffer time. Time is suffering.

It is often much harder to get rid of books than to acquire them. They stick to us in that pact of need and oblivion we make with them, witnesses to a moment in our lives we will never see again. While they are still there, it is part of us.

Ninguém quer extraviar um livro. Preferimos perder um anel, um relógio, o chapéu-de-chuva, do que o livro cujas páginas não mais leremos mas que conservam, na sonoridade do seu título, uma antiga e talvez perdida emoção.

Ço?unlukla bir kitaptan kurtulmak ona sahip olmaktan daha zordur. Kitaplar, sanki asla geri dönemeyece?imiz bir an?n tan?klar? gibi, bir ihtiyaç ve unutkanl?k anla?mas?yla tutunurlar insana.

Ço?unlukla bir kitaptan kurtulmak ona sahip olmaktan daha zordur. Kitaplar sanki asla dönemeyece?imiz bir an?n tan?klar? gibi, bir ihtiyaç ve unutkanl?k anla?mas?yla tutunurlar insana.

Kimse bir kitap kaybetmek istemez. Bir daha okumayacak olsak da ba?l???nda eski, belki de kaybolmu? bir duyguyu ta??yan bir kitab? kaybetmektense bir yüzük, saat veya ?emsiye kaybetmeyi ye?leriz.

But in good time you'll see that sometimes what matters isn't what one gives but what one gives up.

I bet He's only sad for the part of me that belonged to Him.

But we were madly in love! I didn't even consider leaving her because of her ghost vagina. She meant everything to me. I loved her this >< much! (That means infinitely).

Nunca está uno libre; el que no está atado a algo, no vive... Las verdaderas ataduras son las que uno escoge, las que se busca y se pone uno solo, pudiendo no tenerlas.

You don't think we can love each other?" She challenges me. "Sure, of course you can. But he could be dead tomorrow," I warn. "Or you could." "And is that a reason not to love someone?" She asks "Yes." I reply "Yes, it is.

But I don't want you to have any respite from me.

He was already fading. I knew that it wouldn't be long until he was just a vague image, however much I tried to cling onto his memory.

you can love some all you want, but you can't go into their past and become a part of their formative years.

This is like the end of The Corrections," I say and the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates. You turn the page and there is nothing and we are both crying.

the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates. You turn the page and there is nothing

I loved her and she did not love me.

and the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates.

Sometimes I picture the crack in my heart. It flares up when something reminds me of Jon.

You leave him... you move to another state. But you never leave a man, even when you do.

Just once I'd like to fall for someone who isn't handicapped by narcissism, but it's too late. I love you.