Quotes About Belonging

She must bring her song to the stone heights, to the dwellers inside. They would take her in, their sister of the mountains. They would bring her home.

Representation matters. Without the work of other authors writing in a similar vein, I had lost sight of myself entirely

Here she forgot her country, all but a ghost of it, only the voices of her ancestors, her race, reminded her, and sometimes her dreams.

A fish am I," cried Saffiro, "the earth is my ocean.

She was right. After all, if she herself had wondered whether she was Indian enough -- she, who had always been to me a sort of epitome of Indian -- then who could be? Who could claim the sole right or way to an identity?

These were his people--a strange thought. Maybe not his very own people, as in father, mother, brother, sister, but people just like him. He was lost but not so lost after all.

They were truly new people. No longer Forest People, certainly not the Horde. They were outcasts. They were the chosen. Those who had died. Those who lived.

When the world hates you, remember that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you. But you do not belong to the world. I have brought you out of the world and that is why it hates you.

It was real. Not your actual father, no, but the one who tells you that you're not good enough. That you don't belong. The one we all secretly fear when the lights are off. The one that religion has turned into a god made in their own image, capable of hatred.

Following a faint stain- On the air to the river's edge These weeds know me and name me to each other Have they seen me before? Do I fit in their world? I seem separate from the ground And not rooted, but dropped out of nothing casually- I've no threads fastening me to anything I can go anywhere I seem to have been given the freedom of this place- What am I then?

I don't mean what other people mean when they speak of a home, because I don't regard a home as a...well, as a place, a building...a house...of wood, bricks, stone. I think of a home as being a thing that two people have between them in which each can...well, nest.

Lots of words have been written about home being where your heart, your love, your dog, your parakeet, whatever, is. I get it—bricks and mortar don't make a home and all that jazz … For me, home is where you find the touchstones of your life … … And that's the thing about touchstones: Unlike a house, you can take them with you.

This here is: JESUS LAND

I'm not. Certain. About lots of things. I just know where I belong.

Wherefore we be not only His by His buying, but also by the courteous gift of His Father we be His bliss, we be His meed, we be His worship, we be His crown. (And this was a singular marvel and a full delectable beholding, that we be His crown!)

What does it mean to be Catholic and not a Catholic? I feel adrift, homeless. My Catholic imagination allows me to see the soul as a lit breath, seeking the divine. It persists.

If home isn't a place, what is it?' 'A feeling.

I've always had God, but now I want to go back to church for the sense of community and that feeling of positive thinking, a place where I can think about being a better person.

What's the point of living if you don't belong anywhere?

The future holds no hope or meaning to me. I know that by killing myself other people will suffer, but why go through this interminable hell? What's the point of being here if you feel unloved and abandoned by those you used to trust and count on? What's the point of living if you don't belong anywhere?

What are you doing here?" For this wasn't Marrowdell, where house toads belonged and were helpful, when they weren't judging others and interfering with plans.

The New Testament authors fought, ultimately in vain, to maintain their legitimacy as Jews. Read as a Jewish book, the New Testament becomes the story of a reluctant parting—the closing arguments, the last hopes—before Christians ceased, sometimes angrily, sometimes sadly, to be a part of the Jewish people.

I don't know why they are here but it doesn't mean that they don't belong.

How does knowing where we are from inform who we are now?