Quotes About Relationships

What I wanted to say was that I knew Eric would never try to steal my paycheck or throw me out the window, that I'd always been terrified I'd fall for a hard-drinking, hellraising, charismatic scoundrel like you, Dad, but I'd wound up with a man who was exactly the opposite.

The world seemed divided into girls with boyfriends and girls without them.

Thing is," she continues, "Seymour can be with women. But he"—she searches for the right words—"he'd rather be with men.

I know what it's like to be beholden to kin, to be dependent on their kindness, all the while knowing they can cut you off with a snap of the fingers.

He groped me! And he's wanking off!' Mom cocked her head and looked concerned. 'Poor Stanley,' she said. 'He's so lonely.

newspaper writer ought to get out of his office and see the way the world works. He could interview me about it. Or Aunt Faye. Because sometimes men don't take care of the women. And that's why we women need our jobs.

Mattie was right about one thing. I should have seen it all coming. I should have seen how much you were hurting, should have seen what Seymour meant to you, should have stopped him from leaving, should have spoken up, done something. If I had seen it coming, we could've fixed whatever was wrong, you and me, we could have made it work. But I didn't. So we can't. Jane was right. I was a danger to you. I never should have come back.

And yet, that day back when Tom told me about all those different laws, he had a thirteen-year-old's spotty understanding of the way the world works but he sure was right about one thing. What matters most are the laws made by the people close to you, the ones you depend on. Now that's Mary. I reach for the ax.

Six months later, Maureen stabbed Mom.

I'd never met a man I would rather spend time with. I loved him for all sorts of reasons: He cooked without recipes;

J'étais bien. Je regardais les miens. Je pouvais sentir battre leur cÅ"ur et respirer leur souffle. Auprès d'eux je me sentais en paix. J'avais le sentiment qu'ils protégeaient ma vie, tous les trois à leur façon. Je voulais qu'ils sachent à quel point je les aimais.

So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the burning marl. Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is—other people!

It answers the question that was tormenting you: my love, you are not 'one thing in my life' - not even the most important - because my life no longer belongs to me because...you are always me.

L'enfer, c'est les autres.

If I became a philosopher, if I have so keenly sought this fame for which I'm still waiting, it's all been to seduce women basically.

He loves me, he doesn't love my bowels, if they showed him my appendix in a glass he wouldn't recognize it, he's always feeling me, but if they put the glass in his hands he wouldn't touch it, he wouldn't think, that's hers, you ought to love all of somebody, the esophagus, the liver, the intestines. Maybe we don't love them because we aren't used to them, but if we saw them the way we saw our hands and arms maybe we'd love them; the starfish must love each other better than we do.

A man rarely feels like laughing alone.

The appearance of the other in the world corresponds therefore to a congealed sliding of the whole universe.

Once they have slept together they will have to find something else to veil the enormous absurdity of their existence.

I have no need for good souls: an accomplice is what I wanted.

So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: hell is other people.

Alors c'est ça l'enfer. Je ne l'aurais jamais cru… Vous vous rappelez : le souffre, le bûcher, le gril.. Ah quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril, l'enfer c'est les autres.

Well, you're free without wanting to be,' he explained, 'it just happens so, that's all. But Mathieu's freedom is based on reason.' 'I still don't understand,' said Lola, shaking her head. 'Well, he doesn't care a curse about his apartment: he lives there just as he would live anywhere else, and I've got the feeling that he doesn't care much about his girl. He stays with her because he must sleep with someone. His freedom isn't visible, it's inside him.

Her smiles, her mimicries, all the words she uttered were addressed to herself through him.