Quotes About Connection

or maybe love is summed up in moments - that day in the park, the time you had chinese food by candlelight, when the boy you liked left a message, finally, on your machine. maybe the telling of those moments is even better than the moments themselves.

she thinks about lying in here with alex, of the tangle of arms and rope, or lips.

she thought about being held to the woman's chest, and lying there hair-smoothed and quiet until she felt she'd found home.

she uncurls danny's small fists and clasps his hand to hers and notices the way even in his sleep his fingers seem to know their way around hers; their hands together form their own organ, or an x, like on a map that insists you are here.

The task of any good cook, of any parent, is to be present- in the kitchen and out. To taste all the items, absorb each child's day, all those moments, and form them into the day's meals.

travel cracks open the globe, shows us people and forests we would never otherwise experience, but ultimately it must also hold a mirror.

We are one of those couples i used to watch, thinking to myself that I'd never be on the inside of something so special. I remember reassuring myself that it probably looked nicer than it actually was, I am happy to be wrong about that.

And without Dex in my life, I like to think I could have somehow found contentment. But the truth is, I feel freer with Dex than I ever did when I was single. I feel more myself with him than without. Maybe true love does that

Even if we no longer have much in common, we would have always had the past, which, in some ways, is just as important as the present or future. It is where we come from, what makes us who we are.

There is no better audience for someone in love than someone in love.

dangerous chemistry

When I meet someone I like being with more than I like being alone, I'll marry her.

His loyalty, so fierce and unwavering, makes my eyes water and heart ache.

The] maid of honor - the unambiguous, grown-up equivalent of wearing best friend necklaces.

And like a favorite old movie, sometimes the sameness in a friend is what you like the most about her.

Sure, we were friends who exchanged soulful glances, friends who slept in a bed filled with sexual tension, friends who found any excuse to touch, but I worried that we'd never take that perilous leap of faith toward becoming a real couple, a permanent team.

We are in love and meant to be together.

And then there is our personal history. Memories only we share. Things not another living soul would understand.

You don't have to talk to someone to think about them and check up on them now and again.

there is always something comforting about knowing that you are not alone. That other people feel the way you do. That you are a bit screwed up, but still normal.

This time, I whispered that I loved him too. Then, I silently listed all the reason: I loved him for his gentleness. I loved him for being an amazing catch yet still vulnerable enough to be insecure. But most of all, I loved him for loving me.

Love is seldom—almost never—an even proposition. Someone always loves more.

I find my voice and manage to say those three one-syllable words back to him. Words I haven't uttered in a very, very long time. Words that meant nothing before now.

But there is one constant, one thing you can always count on: that not only does love come first, but at the end, it is the only thing that remains.