Quotes About Embrace

We fiction writers are a brazen lot, are we not? For we, in our passion, embrace just enough truth to consecrate our delicately contrived lies.

Be kind! Go and burn the world with the fire of your love.

The process of letting go is an act of accepting.

Oftentimes what we do to minimize a problem maximizes it! Embrace truth helps us to let go!

Dance in the rain, follow the path of lovely lanes, you are what you always wanted to be, so chill out, dear friend!

He allowed the world to wind him in the final set of chains, and climbed, once and for all, into the cabinet of mysteries that was the life of an ordinary man.

Never worry about what you are escaping from," he said. "Reserve your anxieties for what you are escaping to.

He felt the shock of contact. The weight of her against his chest felt like something she had decided to entrust to him. He

They fell asleep holding each other and were wakened by a smell, comforting and maternal, of boiled milk and salt water.

It was the very color of the way my grandmother smelled; the color of the warmth of her lap and enfolding arms; the color of her husky voice resounding in her rib cage when she pulled me close.

It is an amazing thing to be able to hold everything that is important to you in one arm.

Neither spoke, neither made a sound except for the deep exhalation of breath. First he felt her hips shudder, and soon after he desperately reached up and pulled her down into an embrace as his own body created that one moment that takes all other moments away—all fear, all sadness—and leaves just joy. Just hope. Sometimes love.

Every day you fight death with life and what is more vital in life than the physical act of love?

Man is depicted again and again as embracing evil, as being the instigator of his own downfall.

She doesn't really want to go far, she just wants the solitude, the public solitude, of the street; the un-company of passing strangers, no one embracing her, no one looking with compassion and wonder into her eyes, no one marvelling at her.

He needs a looser association. He needs something that implies a man who wants the ice shard to remain in his chest, who's learned to love the sensation of being pierced.

It's part of what we call the Shadow, all the dark parts of us we can't face. It's the thing that, if we don't deal with it, eventually poisons our lives.

I watched you wake up and try to wake me up too. I could still feel you touch my face and my cheek. I liked the way you brushed my hair back with your hand. I liked the way held onto my hands with your hands. They must have felt a little cold and a little wet but they started to feel warm again when you held onto them. I want you to know that I stayed there with you and held onto you too.

I didn't want to wake up either. We both held onto each other. We looked at each other before we closed our eyes and let go of her.

Humans and stories need each other. We tell them, but they tell us too – reaching with soft hands and wide arms to pull us into their embrace. They do this especially when we have become mired in lives of which we can make no sense. We all need a path, and stories can sometimes usher us back to it.

Life must not be spent always hoping, always waiting. Life is for living.

To rest was to receive all aspects of the world without judgment. A bath in the sea, a fuck with a soldier who never knew your name. Tenderness toward the unknown and anonymous, which was tenderness to the self.

There is the hidden presence of others in us, even those we have known briefly. We contain them for the rest of our lives, at every border that we cross.

Some people you just had to embrace, in some way or another, had to bite into the muscle, to remain sane in their company. You needed to grab their hand and clutch it like a downer so they would pull you into their midst. Otherwise they, walking casually down the street towards you, almost about to wave, would leap over a wall and be gone for months.