Quotes About Belonging

I am a Californian by birth and also, I have recently discovered, by nature. The last is something I admit only now, after the fact.

It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think? Remember the Erinyes?

It's a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us.

America was a special country, because, despite the diversity of our racial, religious, and ethnic origins, we were all one nation, one people with a shared set of values and a common culture.

A cat needs a place as much as it needs a person to make its own.

Los gatos no tienen lugar en una existencia que transcurre de un lado para otro, de una habitación a otra. Necesitan un sitio fijo tanto como una persona que los convierta en suyos.

We Francji jest Francja, w Ameryce Ameryka, w Niemczech sÄ… Niemcy i nawet w Czechach sÄ… Czechy, a tylko w Polsce jest Polska.

Entitlement, I have told them, is a matter of feeling like we rather than they.

We're all runts and bastards of one sort or another.

There was no place for him there or in Scotland, compared to the one he held in Russia. And although Diccon Chancellor once had thought, wistfully, of a land where likeminded friends might meet and might talk and might make new and astounding discoveries, free of fear, he knew that it was not to be found yet in England.

Then I tell you,' Sybilla said, 'that you have no leave to die. Nor have you leave to desert the race you belong to. I want your word that from this moment, you live.

Oh, Christ, Richard,' Lymond said. 'You don't need to remind me what country I belong to.

I don't know what you want to be called.' 'Home, like the cattle?' said Lymond.

Is it for this thou wast created? You were wrong, Jerott, wrong; and Sybilla was right. Every day, every hour he lived mattered. He belonged to life: it should have been granted him.

I tell you that whatever infatuation you have fallen into, you cannot keep that man at your side. He belongs where he belongs and he will arrive there, no matter how deep you bury him. Best free him at once and save the heart ache.

Then, with many false starts and blank feet, returning and filling and erasing painfully as she went, she began to write again, knowing with a deep inner certainty that somehow, after long and bitter wandering, she was once more in her own place. Here, then, at home …

And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that?—I love you—I am at rest with you—I have come home.

She felt a cozy solidarity with the big company of the voluntary dead.

Frankenswine: Like an old crazy quilt, I'm pieces and parts from nine different bodies and five different hearts. My brain is a poet's, my snout's from a thief, my hooves all belonged to the old fire chief, I'm slogging thru swamps and mist covered bogs, hunted by farmers with torches and dogs. Thru mountains and towns, over oceans and snow, I've landed here on this arctic ice floe. So I sit here alone at the world frozen end, just looking for someone whom I can call friend.

The only person for whom the house was in any way special was Arthur Dent, and that was only because it happened to be the one he lived in.

Is that robot yours?" he said. "No," came a thin metallic voice from the crater, "I'm mine.

But naturally my shoulder, sir,' mooed the animal contentedly, 'nobody else's is mine to offer.

Very nice,' said Arthur. 'Wonderfully nice. I don't know when I've ever been anywhere nicer. I'm happy here. They like me, I make sandwiches for them, and . . . er, well that's it really. They like me and I make sandwiches for them.' 'Sounds, er . . .' 'Idyllic,' said Arthur, firmly. 'It is. It really is. I don't expect you'd like it very much, but for me it's, well, it's perfect.

In every society on earth the child is regarded as a member of his parents' groups.