Quotes About Belonging

I have emotional strings that tie me to Europe.

Emotionally, a person is tied to the land of his birth. It's only human.

I feel very tied to Ireland and the U.K. and that side of the world.

I'll always be forever tied to the Royals organization and the community there.

Culture in general is important, and people's identify is tied up in it. It's how we connect with others.

I grew up with so much of the identity of being Muslim and being Arab tied around politics.

My mom still lives in Denver and some of my brothers are still in the area, so I still have strong ties there.

I've been trying to pinpoint what keeps drawing me back to the Gulf of Mexico, because I'm Canadian, and I can draw no ancestral ties.

When I speak at events, I often wear my dad's ties and my mom's earrings. It's a small, almost secret way of having them with me when I'm up there onstage, talking to a roomful of strangers. It makes me feel safe.

I've lived all my life in the U.S., but to be brutally honest, I don't really have any ties to the country apart from my mum and dad. Most of the rest of my family live in the Stockport area, and I've always related more to that side of my background.

I've got such close ties to both... Glasgow with all my family, then Manchester with all my mates that I grew up with. So my heart is definitely in both.

My father hails from Shantigrama in Hassan, but my family moved to Bengaluru. Even though I was born and raised in Bengaluru, I have strong ties with my roots.

My first novel, 'The Tiger's Daughter,' embodies the loneliness I felt but could not acknowledge, even to myself, as I negotiated the no man's land between the country of my past and the continent of my present.

I bleed blue. I love being a Tiger and love being back here in Memphis.

It is truly not fun to be the family that sticks out in an all-white community. On the other side, I have five brothers and sisters; we all look exactly the same, and we're very, very tight. The lessons about race were not pleasant, but there are things that I loved about my childhood.

We always felt like we were throwing a party for our friends, regardless of the size or the place, because we actually were throwing a party for our friends. We've always had a very tight knit community.

Why was it I sometimes felt as weary of America as if I too had landed in what was now South Carolina in 1526 or in Jamestown in 1619? Was it the tug of all the lost mothers and orphaned children? Or was it that each generation felt anew the yoke of a damaged life and the distress of being a native stranger, an eternal alien?

He who does not have the church as his mother does not have God as his Father.

J'avais, j'avais ce goût de vivre chez les hommes, et voici que la terre exhale son âme d'étrangère...

A part of my depression lies, I think, in my unanswered question: Where is home? I feel a sense, always, of trying to find my way back to a place that doesn't exist.

I believe, completely, that life is about connection; that nothing else truly matters.

There is one thing we know about meaning: that meaning consists in attachment to something bigger than you are.

All people need a place where their roots can grow deep and they always feel like they belong and have a loving refuge. And all people need a place that gives wings to their dreams, nurturing possibilities of who they might become.

How we need more "homemakers" so that all who live in this transient, contemporary world might have a place to belong, to feel loved and valued, to serve and be served, to give and receive and celebrate all that is good. So