Quotes About Belonging

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile.'' The space monkey continues, ''Our culture has made us all the same. No one is truly white or black or rich, anymore. We all want the same. Individually, we are nothing

La forma que tiene la gente de reclamar para sí a un ser querido es ponerle un nombre que solo hacen servir ellas. Ponerle una etiqueta para apropiárselo.

Anymore, no one's mine is their own.

She's not Italian in any way you'd notice. No garlic smell or big armpit hair. She came here to attend medical school. Frigging medical school. In Iowa. The truth is, immigrants tend to be more American than people born here. The

He doesn't belong here. He came one night during a bad storm. Been a plague ever since.

he'd subsumed a whole new identity. Into each world he went, he became someone slightly new to appeal to the Oliver of that place: sculpting himself into a key that fit into the hole in every Oliver's heart.

I neither like nor approve of this government." "But as you note, you are American. Which means this is your government as much as it is mine." "This government hasn't been mine in a long time." One of those types. "You and I are going to have to differ on that point. I say you live here, it's your government. All the bells and whistles. All the warts and wrinkles.

Maybe healthy communities thrive, and sick ones become cults.

But do you know this idea of the imaginary homeland? Once you set out from shore on your little boat, once you embark, you'll never truly be at home again. What you've left behind exists only in memory, and your ideal place becomes some strange imaginary concoction of all you've left behind at every stop.

I instead was reminded of watching my cousins at Thanksgiving through my own front windows, that strange sense of distance, even where you should belong.

But do you know this idea of the imaginary homeland? Once you set out from shore on your little boat, once you embark, you'll never truly be at home again. What you've left behind exists only in your memory, and your ideal place becomes some strange imaginary concoction of all you've left behind at every stop.

You don't belong only to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection...there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out the fun...and sadness...and love.

This city will have no unhappy people. It's the special city that has the someone just for me.

Make all of me…yours.

One may be outside the church, but one can never be outside of God's love.

Billy would recall years later that the thing wrong with his first foster home, and with every foster home, was that he was never sat down and told why and for how long.

No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home. —L. FRANK BAUM, THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ

She was a creature of the woods and hills, of springtime flower and autumn flight of birds. She knew these things and lived with them and was, in some strange way, a specific part of them. She was one who dwelt apart in an old and lost apartment of the natural world. She occupied a place that Man long since had abandoned, if, in fact, he'd ever held it.

Men died for that approval, sacrificed for that approval, lived lives they loathed for that approval. For without it a man was on his own, an outcast, an animal that had been driven from the pack.

A man, he told himself, must belong to something, must have some loyalty and some identity.

The wardens," he said, "are acting out an old tradition that may not have any meaning now or may never have had a meaning, something that they clung to through the centuries because it was the one reality they had, the one thing in which they could believe. It gave them a sense of continuity, a belonging to the ancient past. It was something that set them apart as special people and made them important." "And

He had given them everything that a human being had with the one exception of that most important thing of all -- the ability to exist within the human world.

A man, he told himself, must belong to something, must have some loyalty and some identity. The galaxy was too big a place for any being to stand naked and alone.

You know my name?" "Of course I do." "Well, that is fine," said Enoch. "And what about your own?" "I am seized with great embarrassment," the alien told him. "For I have no name as such. Identification, surely, that fits the purpose of my race, but nothing that the tongue can form.