Quotes About Bonding

The opposite of Loneliness is not Togetherness , It's Intimacy

How many of us count fictional characters, or those we've never met, among our closest friends? My hand's up.

But how nice it is that one can come to know someone just through correspondence, and become really passionate friends.

First, you hand over some basics--overwhelming joy, existential angst, a giving-in to desire, etc. And then you promise to withstand talking idly about the weather, to encourage cliché, to uphold the virtues of average. You hand over the need to be understood and, in return, you get a bar of Normal soap. And you can wash in it and be daily reborn to a safe world of modest, enduring love or, at least, mild, well-mannered bonding.

they were coming into focus to each other. As though each of them was a sun, burning away each other's obscuring mists.

His father had promised to show him the world. They'd go to Egypt, he'd said, and climb the Pyramids. They'd go to China and take a nice long stroll along that Great Wall. They'd see the Eiffel Tower in Paris and the Colosseum in Rome and at night, by the light of the stars, they'd glide through Venice in a black wooden gondola. The moon above, he sang, is yours and mine...

That's why I love entertainment, in all forms: it's connection disguised as escapism.

Priscilla was my age and lived two blocks away. For the first fifteen years of my life, those were the only qualifications I needed in a best friend. We had first bonded over our mutual fascination with the abacus in a playgroup for gifted kids. But that was before freshman year, when Priscilla's glasses came off, and the first in a long string of boyfriends got on

It near broke my heart to treat such a good piece of meat in such a way. Aye, Red said with feeling. I watched ye do it, and it near made me cry,too. Sophia laughed and hugged her father. When this is over,Mary will cook you an entire leg of mutton, perfectly roasted and seasoned. His eyes brightened. With mint sauce? Aye, Mary said, beaming.

You might be a good mom...You can practice on me.

Like they say, you never know a person till you've done time with them.

In that moment, Emily had desperately wanted her baby to be all right. Not out of duty. A child wasn't only a responsibility. It was an opportunity to love someone the way that she had never been loved. And for the first time in this whole shameful, humiliating, helpless process, Emily Vaughn knew without a doubt that she loved this baby.

dashboard. She didn't know the opening lyrics, but she belted out the chorus. " Ã¢â'¬ËœPoor, poor pitiful me!' Ã¢â'¬Â She nudged Maggie. " Ã¢â'¬ËœPoor, poor pitiful me!' Ã¢â'¬Â Maggie smiled despite herself. Gail bellowed, " Ã¢â'¬ËœPoor, poor pitiful me!' 

This seemed to be how dads taught their boys to be men, but there had to be a point, maybe early on, when they were able to hold their hands. One tiny one engulfed by one big one.

Belle Isle Andy hadn't had a drink since she'd returned home. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to break the streak. Still, she took a cup and sat cross-legged on the floor so that her dad could sit in the chair

Well... they say friends help you move and good friends help you move bodies.

The kid looked up from her wampum and stared inscrutably at her and then, for the first time since Tracy bought her, Courtney smiled. A beatific sunbeam of a smile. Tracy beamed back, a bubble-burst of mixed emotion – ecstasy and agony in equal, confusing measure inside her – rising in her chest. Jesus. How did parents manage with this kind of stuff on a daily basis? She found herself blinking back tears.

Men make the best friends.

All men, even the most surly are influenced by affection.

I have a two year old. Just turned two a couple weeks ago, and he is my main man, he is my shadow. Every spare second, I am hanging with him.

For men, after a certain age, it gets hard to make new friends.

I like the company of guys. I have a lot of good girlfriends that I really love, but you know, most of my close friends are men.

More lightly do his sorrows press upon a man, when to a friend or fellow traveller he tells his griefs.

When a man dies, his secrets bond like crystals, like frost on a window. His last breath obscures the glass.