Quotes About Belonging

It is not good to be so much away from one's own people. It is the sort of thing known to make one strange.

For me, once I've made a cup of tea I belong somehow. It's like I'm marking out my territory, and anyone attempting to come and make a cup of tea on my patch will be dealt with most severely, more likely than not with a counter attack into their territory and the seizure of their milk cartons and shortbread biscuits.

You're not playing the game,' Mary Landon said. 'I told you about me. You're just telling me about your family.' The statement surprised Chee. One defined himself by his family. How else? And then it occurred to him that white people didn't. They identified themselves by what they had done as individuals.

Finding a homeland is not the same as dwelling in the place where our ancestors once used to live."   —KRZYSZTOF CZYZEWSKI

I don't feel, finally, that my politics are entirely determined by the fact that I'm a gay man.

I wish you would stick more closely to your demographic profile. Life is confusing enough already.

I wish you would be more true to your demographic profile. Life is confusing enough.

We were never visitors here together, you and I. Yet how easy it is for me to find you in this place

My classmates find me unceasingly, overwhelmingly comical, and I've gotten used to the clown role and even find a sad comfort in it, because together with my confirmed stupidity, it protects me against their peculiar meanness toward anyone who is different.

Where's your home then?" asked the Snork Maiden. "Nowhere," said Snufkin a little sadly, "or everywhere. It depends how you look at it.

Du skjønner, det er så mye som ikke for plass om sommeren og høsten og våren", sa hun. "Alle som er litt sjenerte og litt rare. Forskjellige slags nattdyr og folk som ikke passer inn noen steder, og som ingen tror på. De holder seg unna hele året. Og så, når det er helt stille og hvitt og nettene blir lange og alle har gått i hi - da kommer de fram.

I don't belong here any more,' Moomintroll thought. 'Nor there. I don't even know what's waking and what's a dream.' And then in an instant he was asleep, and summer lilacs covered him in their friendly green shadow.

Clever of you, Hemul. But, on the other hand, think how lonely the Groke is because nobody likes her, and she hates everybody. The Contents is perhaps the only thing she has. Would you now take that away from her too -- lonely and rejected in the night?" Sniff became more and more affected and his voice trembled. "Cheated out of her only possession by Thingumy and Bob." He blew his nose and couldn't go on.

It's nice to have beautiful things that really belong to you.

Hän katsoi jasmiinipensasta, jossa paljaat oksat olivat huolimattomasti sikin sokin, ja ajatteli kauhistuneena: Se on huollut. Koko maailma on kuollut minun nukkuessani. Tämä maailma kuuuluu jollekin toiselle, jota minä en tunne. Ehkä Mörölle. Tätä ei ole luotu muumipeikkojen asuinpaikaksi.

Maybe my passion is nothing special, but at least it's mine. - An Eightieth Birthday

There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that's a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don't fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything's quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.

I'm still a person, a human being, no matter what religion I am.

This book was home to her, more than the palazzo and it's fine furnishings could ever be.

Urban Fantasy is the orphan left on the doorstep that no-one knows what to do with.

sometimes, what i see is a library in a rural community. all the tall shelves in the big open room. and the pencils in a cup at circulation, gnawed on by the entire population. the books have lived here all along, belonging for weeks at a time to one or another in the brief sequence of family names, speaking (at night mostly) to a face, a pair of eyes. the most remarkable lies.

There is a We in this poem To which everyone belongs. As in We the People-- In order to form a more perfect Union-- And: We were objects of much curiosity To the Indians-- And: The next we present before you Are things very appalling-- And: We find we are living, suffering, loving, Dying a story. We had not known otherwise-- We 's a huckster, trickster, has pluck. We will draw you in.

America, there is not a place I can wander inside you and not feel a little afraid.