Quotes About Separation

Thought is that invisible blade that determines the separation of bodies. The truth that sees itself as such becomes a lie and a deception, but language, which never lies, wins out over both.

Adversity no longer exists within the subject, which has become indifferent to misfortune and to itself. Between the object and the subject of vengeance, no demarcation. A single, dual being, and nothing is separate.

ship returned from Jamaica — withou' Sammy. He had died of fever in the West Indies.

Concha would cry when she found out I was dead, she should have no taste for life for months afterward. But I was still the one who was going to die. I thought of her soft, beautiful eyes. when she looked at me something passed her to me. But I knew it was over: if she looked at me now the look would stay in her eyes, it wouldn't reach me. I was alone

I have just related the story of a missed vocation: I needed God, He was given to me, I received Him without realizing that I was seeking Him. Failing to take root in my heart, He vegetated in me for a while, then He died. Whenever anyone speaks to me about Him today, I say, with the easy amusement of an old beau who meets a former belle: Fifty years ago, had it not been for that misunderstanding, that mistake, the accident that separated us, there might have been something between us.

Ton départ était moins cruel que ton retour.

You said, 'I'm going to leave him because my love for you makes any other life a lie.' I've hidden those words in the lining of my coat. I take them out like a jewel thief when no-one's watching. They haven't faded. Nothing about you has faded. You are still the colour of my blood. You are my blood. When I look in the mirror it's not my own face I see. Your body is twice. Once you once me. Can I be sure which is which?

When people looked at him they had the feeling of being shut out. He did not shut them out. He shut himself in.

If you should leave me, my heart will turn to water and flood away.

And so, from the first, we separated our pleasure. She lay on the rug and I lay at right angles to her so that only our lips might meet. Kissing in this way is the strangest of distractions. The greedy body that clamors for satisfaction is forced to content itself with a single sensation and, just as the blind hear more acutely and the deaf can feel the grass grow, so the mouth becomes the focus of love and all things pass through it and are re-defined. It is a sweet and precise torture.

Love's lengthways splits the heart in two - the heart where you are, the heart where you want to be.

Happiness was still on the other side of a glass door, but at least she could see it through the glass, like a prisoner being visited by a longed-for loved one.

Don't mix your heart with your liver.

When Jordan was a baby he sat on top of me much as a fly rests on a hill of dung. And I nourished him as a hill of dung nourishes a fly, and when he had eaten his fill he left me. Jordan... I should have named him after a stagnant pond and then I could have kept him, but I named him after a river and in the flood-tide he slipped away.

Passion is sweeter split strand by strand. Divided and re-divided like mercury then gathered up only at the last moment.

Bridges join but they also separate.

to create was a fundament, to appreciate, a supplement. Once created, the creature was separate from the creator, and needed no seconding to fully exist.

There is a further trouble; no matter how meticulous the scientist, he or she cannot be separated from the experiment itself. Impossible to detach the observer from the observed. A great deal of scientific truth has later turned out to be its observer's fiction. It is irrational to assume that this is no longer the case.

When you dig under the surface, past the necessities, men and women don't mix.

It meant that to create was a fundament, to appreciate, a supplement. Once created, the creature was separate from the creator, and needed no seconding to fully exist.

Can anyone deny that we are haunted? What is it that crouches under the myths we have made? Always the physical presence of something split off.

yet when she first left me i thought i had blood poisoning ,i couldn't forget her,now she seemed to have forgotten everything .it made me want to shake her ,to pull all my clothes in the middle of the street and yell remember this body time is a great deadener ,people forget, get bored, grow old , go away. she said that not much had happened between us anyway, historically speaking

Il fut mis dans une maison de charité, où l'âge et le regret de se voir loin de sa famille le mirent au tombeau presque en arrivant.

down the stone steps to the windswept beach, her raven tresses flowing out behind her. She scanned the empty sands, and when she saw no sign of Blaine, a great cry of anguish escaped her lips. She could not live without him! She would sooner die!