Quotes About Attachment

identify with everything so easily—with your body, your thoughts, your opinions, your roles—and so you suffer. I have released all identification.

The home world exercises its siren call over us all. No matter how far we wander, or how long we are gone, it waits patiently. And when we return to it, as we must, it sings to us. We came out of its forests, waded ashore from its seas. It is in our blood, for good or ill.

Some men fall in love with a woman, Some women fall in love with a man, Some men fall in love with another man, Some women fall in love with another woman - But I, my dear one, fell in love with Shetland. - Shetland

They never tell you about that either. How the hardest thing a mother has to do is give her child up, let them go, watch them run.

she had placed her husband's cell phone, fully charged, inside the casket . . . and that she had called and left him messages for months after.

She left behind her giant M, she's not getting my cabinet" -Toby

Where are they now? she thought. Her iPod, her iPhone, her iPad, the I-ness of her life? Her mind stretched around in its memories, searching for her things: She saw her phone on the hotel bedside table in Paris; her iPad in her Louis Vuitton urban satchel; her iPod slipping from her pocket in the restaurant, the night before she ran away.

He wondered where that stuff went to, where love went to, how a person could just love somebody one day and boom –- the next day love somebody else.

And it's not even strange that it feels the way it's always felt like the place we belong to. Like home.

Even if you turn your back on the world you left, you're still pulled toward it, you're still turning around--always--to look behind you. To make sure everyone's okay.

When I took these things from the house: some tapes, some books, my winter clothes, I did not know that these would become the things I own.

Quel est donc cet autre à qui je suis plus attaché qu'à moi, puisqu'au sein le plus assenti de mon identité à moi-même, c'est lui qui m'agite ?

La atracción por la utilidad es tan irresistible, que vemos personas dispuestas a todo por el placer de dar sus comodidades a quienes se les metió en la cabeza que no podrían vivir sin su auxilio.

I love you, but, because inexplicably I love in you something more than you - the object petit a - I mutilate you.

When one loves, it has nothing to do with sex.

I am dying!" he cried. "Kiss me, my love. Kiss me, and mayhap your love will keep me tethered to this mortal coil.

Your life is just about craving, and making something else tremendously more important than you.

Fue tuyo mientras quiso estar contigo —razonó mi papá—

She was never your's, it was just your turn.

But mostly I had books - so many books, and they were mine; I would not have to part with them. It had always been a dream of mine to just own a lot of books, to never part with a book once I had read it.

That was the moment he got the idea he possessed me in a certain way, and that was the moment I grew tired of him.

el amor se diferencia del arte en que el arte es libre y el amor sólo lo parece. el arte lo lleva uno consigo, y puede ir con el a donde quiera. Pero el amor no es transportable, el amor ata, y ése es un nudo que no hay quien lo deshaga.

Paintings are like children. It's nice to have them around the house, but not necessarily forever.

The Dog Hair The dog is gone. We miss him. When the doorbell rings, no one barks. When we come home late, there is no one waiting for us. We still find his white hairs here and there around the house and on our clothes. We pick them up. We should throw them away. But they are all we have left of him. We don't throw them away. We have a wild hope—if only we collect enough of them, we will be able to put the dog back together again.