Quotes About Belonging

Tu aliento se me fue haciendo costumbre, y ahora lo único que sé es que ya no podría vivir sin él; lo necesito junto a mí y para siempre, contra mi propia almohada. En tu casa o en la mía ¡qué importa! cualquiera de las dos puede ser la nuestra. Elige tú.

It's a very powerful neurosis—to not know where one came from and not love what one was. The family tree is what one was. It's important to recognize it head-on and love it.

Znaš", zamišljeno je rekao Pronek, "mislim da gdje god ti je dom postoji i barica po kojoj znaš da li pada kiša." "Kako to misliš?" "Ono, kad pogledaš kroz prozor i ne znaš da li pada i onda pogledaš svoju baricu i onda znaš." "Da, znam. To je lepo." "Ja sam imao svoju baricu u Sarajevu, ispred ku?e.

It's not about where you belong, it's about what belongs to you," I told her...I was twenty-seven (and a half) and Sarajevo belonged to me.

We are within our life and we stay there for as long as possible, that's our home. We need life. There is too much death already, and there is probably more coming our way.

If my mind and my city were the same thing then I was losing my mind.

You have to be taught to recognize and care about differences, you have to be instructed who you really are; you have to learn how generations of dead people and their incomprehensible accomplishments made you the way you are; you have to define your loyalty to an abstraction-based herd that transcends your individuality.

El hogar es allí donde tu ausencia no pasa desapercibida

la patria e' dove si sta bene..

the reason he had known about Islam long before he studied the religion at Dartmouth. He was one-quarter Muslim by birth. Noor had

You have to make everyone feel at home. That doesn't mean you're going to be soft on them – but you want them to feel that they belong.

If the people within your organisation feel they are part of a community that has their interests at heart, they will develop great loyalty. And it often starts with what seem like small issues.

It's intriguing. I've always felt like a freak myself. But what would it be like, to wear my freakishness on the outside, to have it be obvious to the world?

We are all immigrants, a glorious confection of races and beliefs, united by the rock that we live on. As the years wash over us and new generations march into the future, family histories are subsumed into the greater narrative. We become, simply, Americans.

In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage- to know who we are and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.

Sadly, we are losing the "soul" of our communities, ignoring the danger that when a community (or society) loses its soul, it loses itself.

With the Internet, we can choose the very communities we want to be a part of.

I was by now used to people being surprised by me and my background, and their surprise offended me. I was always having to be what I was looking for in the world, wishing the person I would become already existed — some other I before me. I was forever finding even the tiniest way to identify with someone to escape how empty the world seemed to be of what I was.

Had he himself ever felt Korean inside, for example? How would he know? Wouldn't it just feel like . . . himself? Whatever he'd felt, it was probably not what Scott felt. But also, he was Korean American, not Korean, a distinction he had never been able to explain sufficiently to the white people in his life so far,

Alone with myself and my talent, I chose it in some way I never had before. I chose myself also. The person I was and had been all along, the one who had not belonged to the place where she was born, nor to the places she found along the way, the one always under the mask, here she came out and breathed the air and felt at home. I had always believed that to be this person might destroy me or the world, and so as the world seemed to end, this made the end of the world seem nearly a paradise.

And while it never felt like love or community, it had almost felt like not being alone.

Am I then more of an American than those who drew their first breath on American Ground?

Home had a new meaning now. Jago watched him, and was satisfied. Like

It seems to me that we're in danger of losing sight of certain basic civic values in society by allowing the growth of a whole generation of people who really have no sense of attachment to society.