Quotes About Belonging

What about her? Liesel was exercising the blatant right of every person who's ever belonged to a family. It's all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members but they won't let anyone else do it. That's when you get your back up and show loyalty.

You're an idiot-but you're our kind of idiot. Come on.

Papa- the accordionist- and Himmel Street. One could not exist without the other, because for Liesel, both were home.

I realize that nothing belongs to her any more and she belongs to everything. She

Caddenin her yerinde insanlar vard? ama bo? olsa, yabanc? bundan daha yaln?z olamazd?.

Liesel was exercising the blatant right of every person who's ever belonged to a family. It's all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won't let anyone else do it. That's when you get your back up and show loyalty.

I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything. They look like they're so happy, just inside this moment, watching the kids and the lights on their old fibro house. Lua kisses her. Just softly on the lips. And she kisses back. Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.

the blatant right of every person who's ever belonged to a family. It's all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won't let anyone else do it.

Clearly,' said Arthur, 'you're an idiot – but you're our kind of idiot. Come on.

Henri Michaux és autor de frases lapidàries, algunes molt encertades; una que m'habita des que la vaig llegir fa més de trenta anys és aquesta: «Qui n'aime pas ce monde, n'y bâtit pas de maison»>: aquell a qui no agrada aquest món, no hi construeix una casa.

I know that everything essential and great originated from the fact that the human being had a homeland and was rooted in tradition.

All the poems of the poet who has entered into his poethood are poems of homecoming.

There is much talk nowadays of blood and soil [Blut und Boden] as frequently invoked powers. Literati, whom one comes across even today, have already seized hold of them. Blood and soil are certainly powerful and necessary, but they are not a sufficient condition for the Dasein of a people.

It is indeed in no way settled that the "self" is ever determinable by means of a representation of the ego. Instead, it must be acknowledged that selfhood first arises out of the grounding of Da-sein, a grounding that is carried out as an appropriation of the belonging to the call. Accordingly, the openness and grounding of the self arise out of, and as, the truth of beyng

Tendríamos que aprender a reconocer que las cosas mismas son los lugares y que no se limitan a pertenecer a un lugar.

There is nothing more dangerous than to build a society with a large segment of people in that society who feel that they have no stake in it; who feel that that have nothing to lose. People who have stake in their society, protect that society, but when they don't have it, they unconsciously want to destroy it.

Injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere. Anyone who lives inside the US can never be considered an outsider anywhere in the country

Since crime often grows out of a sense of futility and despair, Negro parents must be urged to give their children the love, attention, and sense of belonging that a segregated society deprives them of.

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial outside agitator idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider.

Rather than feel small, however, in this arena she felt part of something much bigger than herself. This gave her both a sense of power and peace.

Everyone should know what it is like to be called by name. By the name of the unique person one is at heart.

She looked like someone he must have known all his life. She looked like a little piece of home - whatever the devil his mind meant by presenting him with that odd idea.

Home had always been a place to dream of.

Immersion in the group mind is a kind of poor man's self-transcendence.