Quotes About Separation

and then quite suddenly I found that I had no rider, that I had no weight on my back, and that I was alone out in front of the squadron.

Do you understand the sadness of geography?

I shall have to learn how to miss you.

The Englishman left months ago, Hana, he's with the Bedouin or in some English garden with its phlox and shit.

In 1945 our parents went away and left us in the care of two men who may have been criminals.

va trebui sa invat cum sa ti duc dorul

There were nights when Cullis would lie beside her, barely touching her with the tip of his finger. He would move down the bed, kissing her brown hip, her hair, to the cave within her. When they were apart he wrote how he loved the sound of her breath in those moments, the intake and release of it, paced and constant, as if preparing, as if knowing there was to be long distance ahead. His hands on her thighs, his face wet with the taste of her, her open palm on the back of his neck.

Wherever Hana is now, in the future, she is aware of the line of movement Kip's body followed out of her life. Her mind repeats it. The path he slammed through among them. When he turned into a stone of silence in their midst. She recalls everything of that August day— what the sky was like, the objects on the table in front of her going dark under the thunder.

Who realizes how contented feral children are? The grasp of the family fell away as soon as I was out the door.

Sólo quiero que sepas que aún no te echo de menos. —Ya llegará.

I remember hating having to cross over the Broadway Bridge again, having to leave the peninsula neighborhood and go back to my apartment in downtown Boston.

It has become much harder, in the past century, to tell where the garden leaves off and pure nature begins.

Comer nos pone en contacto con todo aquello que compartimos con el resto de los animales y con lo que nos separa de ellos. Nos define.

You've got to separate the singer and the songs.

I miss my family every single day.

It's difficult. I'm a single parent now, and I'm having such a battle to see my kids on a daily basis. It's so hard.

My father was born on Christmas Day in 1934. He grew up in what is now part of North Korea. When the Korean War began, my father was 16, and he found passage on an American refugee ship,thinking he'd be gone for just a few days, but he never saw his mother or his sister again.

When I was 15, I was not living with my parents anymore. They were on an island in the Caribbean and I was back in Paris, where I lived with my sisters between 15 and 19.

My father came by himself across the North Korean border when he was seventeen. And hasn't seen his brothers or sisters or parents since then. And he died some time ago, but never saw any of his relatives. My mother was a refugee in war-torn Korea.

I lived with my mother and father and brothers and sisters some of the time; some of the time, my mother and father were feuding, so my mother would take us to live in my grandmother's house.

Moving away from home was the biggest challenge. Leaving my mum and my sisters behind, I miss them a lot. But I wanted to do what was best for me, and that was what I did.

During Partition, my parents, my brother and sisters were killed before my eyes.

We lived on a potato farm my dad and three boys. My parents parted when I was young. My mother and sisters lived nearby, but not with us.

They are all gone into the world of light, and I alone sit lingering here.