Quotes About Attachment

He had watched her, after all, mourn her husband's death and it had been for her in part the discovery that grief could attach itself with permanence - something Ishmael had already discovered. It attached itself and then it burrowed inside and made a nest and stayed. It ate whatever was warm nearby, and then the coldness settled in permanently. You learned to live with it.

To me, this is a play about two people who are joined irreparably. They're handcuffed at the heart.

grief is optional in this lifetime. Yes, it's true. You don't have to experience grief, but you can only avoid it by avoiding love. Love and grief are inextricably intertwined. As Erich Fromm says, "To spare oneself from grief at all costs can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability

There has to be a moment at the beginning where you wonder whether you're in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself. If the moment doesn't pass, that's it—you're done. And if the moment does pass, it never goes that far. It stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes it's even there when you thought you were searching for something else, like an escape route, or your lovers' face.

I love you-I do-but I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you're always going to leave me, A. We can't deny it. You're always going to leave.

The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in the physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There's not getting over that.

This is the hard part about having best friends that I feel no attachment to -- I don't give them any benefit of the doubt. And being best friends is always about the benefit of the doubt.

I'm ready to lose myself, but I'm not ready to lose you. I'm ready to find myself, But I'm not ready for you to know what I find.

She stays in the same spot, anchored by the profound, desperate loneliness of a bad relationship.

Let me hold on to this the way it was, before I knew anything else.

It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I've gotten it backward, maybe it's just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don't think that's it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn't happened to meet her.

When first love ends, most people eventually know there will be more to come. They are not through with love. Love is not through with them. It will never be the same as the first, but it will be better in different ways. I have no such consolation. This is why I cling so hard. This is why this is so hard.

When I leave my own house, there's always a part of me that stays behind, waiting for me to get back. That's what makes it my home - that feeling that a part of me is always waiting for me there.

shouldn't letting go be painless if you've never learned how to hold on?

detachment, n. Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it.

I see Nick's number. I debate whether to assign a name to his number. If I commit to that, then I will truly be heartbroken if he never calls me again; my heart will knot each and every time I use this phone and see his name in there. I would probably end up having to trash the phone entirely.

The minute she left the apartment, I missed having her there. But as with all loves, I supposed, the consolation was in the fact that she'd be back.

People are rarely as attractive in reality as they are in the eyes of the people who are in love with them. Which is, I suppose, as it should be. It's almost heartening to think that the attachment you have can define your perception as much as any other influence.

I learn about the highs and lows of living with the same mother for your entire life, about how no one can make you angrier, but how you can't really love anyone more.

It's almost heartening to think that the attachment you have can define your perception as much as any other influence.

Whatever you had -- I don't know what it was, and that's fine. But it must not be easy for you. You miss him, and that's okay. But you have to figure that if it's too much hard to hang on, then maybe you should let go.

There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.

hubris, n. Every time I call you mine, I feel like I'm forcing it, as if saying it can make it so. As if I'm reminding you, and reminding the universe: mine. As if that one word from me could have that kind of power.

I choose what to remember, and I am choosing Rhiannon. Again and again, I am choosing her, I am conjuring her, because to let go for an instant will allow her to disappear.