Quotes About Attachment

For I am in love. For the first time in my life, utterly and completely, I have fallen in love, and I can not believe it myself.

But the magic moment when he walks alone has not yet happened, and I was praying he would do it before I have to leave. Now he will take his first step without me. And every step thereafter, I know. Every step of his life, and me not there to see him walk.

Another husband, another new house, another new country, but I never belong anywhere and I never own anything in my own right.

It is luck to love someone who is free to love you in return. But I don't. I just desire him, desire him and desire him; and I wait for it to burn out. Everything I have ever gained has always turned to ashes after a little while. Why should this be any different?

If it means something to you,then take it to heart. If it means nothing, it means nothing, let it go.

How should I forget them? They are around me like wasps around a honeypot.

comes with me everywhere. I bend down and quietly put her out of the room. She whines and

Harry could come and go as he pleased; he was always a visitor in his own home. He never belonged to Wideacre as I belonged. Only Papa, the land and I were the constant elements in my life. Papa, the land and I had been inseparable since the first time I had seen Wideacre in its wonderful wholeness from between the hunter's ears. Papa, the land and I would be here forever.

I can tell you my heart turned to stone at York," he says to me frankly. "Freezing cold wind and a rain that could cut through you, and the faces of the women like stone itself. They looked at me as if I had personally murdered their only son. You know what they're like—they love Richard as dearly as if he rode out only yesterday. Why do they do that? Why do they cling to him still?

All that was left of you was this sock, Peter went on in a small voice. Wally decided that if their family ever became poor, they could send Peter out to beg on street corners, because he obviously could wring your heart.

How's my wittle Shiloh-biloh-wiloh?

home lies in the things you carry with you everywhere and not the ones that tie you down.

Well, you know what happens to lovers: whenever they see a lyre, a garment or anything else that their beloved is accustomed to use, they know the lyre, and the image of the boy to whom it belongs comes into their mind.

Yet whenever someone comes upon his very own half then they are wondrously struck with affection and intimacy and love, and are practically unwilling to be separated from one another even for a short time. And it is they who stay together for life, and who wouldn't be able to say what they want to get for themselves from one another.

And when you see a man who is repining at the approach of death, is not his reluctance a sufficient proof that he is not a lover of wisdom, but a lover of the body, and probably at the same time a lover of either money or power, or both?

He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of pleasure will of course desire to make his beloved as agreeable to himself as possible.

I was attached to this city by the god—though it seems a ridiculous thing to say—as upon a great and noble horse which was somewhat sluggish because of its size and needed to be stirred up by a kind of gadfly. It is to fulfill some such function that I believe the god has placed me in the city. I never cease to rouse each and every one of you, to persuade and reproach you all day long and everywhere I find myself in your company

In one study, Cummings found that children's emotional well-being and security are more affected by the relationship between the parents than by the direct relationship between the parent and child.

Our native soil draws all of us, by I know not what sweetness, and never allows us to forget.

mammals, he mutters. can't live with them, can't live without them.

Yes, that's the laptop I use to write all the Goosebumps books. I know it looks strange. That's because someone's lap is still attached. Don't touch it. I think it's contagious.

Morley put his hand over his heart and bowed from the waist, a gesture that somehow reminded Claire of Myrnin. It reminded her she missed him, too, which was just wrong. She should not be missing Morganville, or anyone in it. Especially not the crazy boss vampire who'd put fang marks in her neck that would never, ever go away. She was doomed to high-necked shirts because of him. But she did miss him.

Hard habit to break, friendship.

Home, he repeated. Home is where the heart is. Why don't you leave yours here? I'll take very good care of it.