Quotes About Connection

Loving one another isn't enough to make a relationship last. The real glue that holds a couple (or friends or family) together is the effort both put into helping others who are in need of financial, health, personal or emotional assistance. Today, sustain your connection to a loved one by finding ways you both can help others, with a genuine heart.

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Kabbalah is its long-hidden connection to the Bible.   Kabbalah says the Bible is a complete code. That's right. It's a cryptogram.

vence a tu propia naturaleza reactiva y los cielos te ayudarán a vencer a las leyes de la Madre Naturaleza, pues ambas están íntimamente relacionadas.

My love will come will fling open her arms and fold me in them, will understand my fears, observe my changes. In from the pouring dark, from the pitch night without stopping to bang the taxi door she'll run upstairs through the decaying porch burning with love and love's happiness, she'll run dripping upstairs, she won't knock, will take my head in her hands, and when she drops her overcoat on a chair, it will slide to the floor in a blue heap.

Freedom and crime are so indissolubly connected to each other, like... well, like the movement of the aero and its velocity. When the velocity of the aero = 0, it doesn't move; when the freedom of a person = 0, he doesn't commit crime. This is clear. The sole means of ridding man of crime is to rid him of freedom.

I bent down to I-330 and drank her in with my eyes for the last time.

Forget that you're a gram and feel yourself a millionth part of a ton.

Rüzgarla yerinden kopan bir yaprak sükunetle aÅŸa?? düÅŸer ama düÅŸerken döner, k?vr?l?r ve tan?d??? her dalla, her filizle, gövdeyle göz göze gelir... Yanlar?ndan geçtiÄŸim her kafaya, duvarlar?n saydam buzuna, bulutlara uzanan Ak?mtoplar Kulesi'yle iÅŸte öyle göz göze geldim.

?i tu ai în tine, pesemne, câteva pic?turi de sânge solar, de p?dure. Poate c? tocmai de aceea eu te --

L?ncile genelor se dau la o parte, m? las? s? p?trund - È™i... Cum s? descriu ce face cu mine acest ritual str?vechi, stupid, minunat, când buzele ei le ating pe ale mele? Prin ce formul? s? exprim aceast? vijelie, care m?tur? totul din suflet, în afar? de ea? Da, da, din suflet - n-aveÈ›i decât s? râdeÈ›i, dac? vreÈ›i.

How can I tell you what that ancient, absurd, wonderful rite, when her lips touch mine, does to me? What formula can I use to express this whirlwind that sweeps everything out of my soul except her?

Freedom and crime are so indissolubly connected to each other, like . . . well, like the movement of the aero and its velocity. When the velocity of the aero = 0, it doesn't move; when the freedom of a person = 0, he doesn't commit crime. This is clear. The sole means of ridding man of crime is to rid him of freedom.

If only I had a mother, the way the ancients had. I mean my own mother. And if for her I could be —not the Builder of the Integral, and not number D-503, and not a molecule of the One State, but just a piece of humanity, a piece of her own self, trampled, crushed, outcast . . .

The whole world is one immense woman, and we are in her very womb, we are not yet born, we are joyfully ripening.

The speed of her tongue is not correctly calculated; the speed per second of her toungue should be slightly less than the speed per second of her thoughts -at any rate not the reverse.

And he needed to imagine that someone must love him, within these numberless houses, so that he could sleep, so that he could wake up.

Whoever needs milk, bows to the animal.

But loneliness is as delusive a belief in the pertinence of the world as is love: in choosing to feel lonely, as in choosing to love, one carves a space next to oneself to be filled by others - a friend, a lover, a toy poodle, a violinist on the radio.

Once in a while I get an email from someone I have met briefly. "You may not remember me," these emails often begin, the hope to be remembered expressed by the acceptance of having already been forgotten.

She wonders if this is what people call falling in love, the desire to be with someone for every minute of the rest of her life so strong that sometimes she is frightened of herself.

They were lonely and sad people, all three of them, and they would not make one another less sad, but they could, with great care, make a world that would accommodate their loneliness.

small talk is for neighbors and families and maybe, in your case, coworkers. You don't waste your life having small talk with strangers.

Being a mother must be the saddest yet most hopeful thing in the world, falling into a love that, once started, would never end.

Often I think that writing is a futile effort; so is reading; so is living. Loneliness is the inability to speak with another in one's private language. That emptiness is filled with public language or romanticized connections. But one must be cautious when assuming meaning. A moment of recognition between two people only highlights the inadequacy of language. What can be spoken does not sustain; what cannot be spoken undermines.