Quotes About Connection

What a terrible mistake, thought Drogo, perhaps everything is like that — we think there are beings like ourselves around us and instead there is nothing but ice and stones speaking a strange language; we are on the point of greeting a friend but our arm falls inert, the smile dies away because we are completely alone.

Difficile è credere in una cosa quando si è soli, e non se ne può parlare con alcuno. Proprio in quel tempo Drogo si accorse come gli uomini, per quanto possano volersi bene, rimangano sempre lontani; che se uno soffre, il dolore è completamente suo, nessun altro può prenderne su di sé una minima parte; che se uno soffre, gli altri per questo non sentono male, anche se l'amore è grande, e questo provoca la solitudine della vita.

In un momento Sono sfiorite le rose I petali caduti Perché io non potevo dimenticare le rose Le cercavamo insieme Abbiamo trovato delle rose Erano le sue rose erano le mie rose Questo viaggio chiamavamo amore Col nostro sangue e colle nostre lagrime facevamo le rose Che brillavano un momento al sole del mattino Le abbiamo sfiorite sotto il sole tra i rovi Le rose che non erano le nostre rose Le mie rose le sue rose P. S. E così dimenticammo le rose.

We take spiritual initiation when we become conscious of the Divine within us, and thereby contact the Divine without us.

What you contemplate, you touch. What you enter into in imagination, you make yourself one with.

There is something very intimate and personal about one's books. They reveal so much of one's private soul.

The body is the vehicle of the mind.

In sympathetic magic one imitated a thing and so got into touch with it.

I suggest that we should deal with sex, not from the standpoint of its wickedness, nor of its commonplaceness, but of its sacredness.

We are the sum of all people we have ever met; you change the tribe and the tribe changes you.

At the end of the night they all seemed so happy. Maybe it was just because they hadn't seen each other in a while, but as they all gathered around hugging, kissing, and well-wishing each other, I found myself feeling for the first time in my life like maybe I'd missed out on something.

He said he was always looking for a new color. He used to call me the new color. He said he wouldn't wanna see a spaceship without me. He always talked in riddles, but I think I know what he meant, and I don't think anyone can ever say anything that will mean as much to me.

Have you ever loved someone and it became yourself?

Why is it that whenever I hear music I think I'm a bride?

You know what man really desires?" inquired the doctor, grinning into the immobile face of the Baron. "One of two things: to find someone who is so stupid that he can lie to her, or to love someone so much that she can lie to him.

Everything we can't bear in this world, some day we find in one person, and love it all at once.

In the resurrection, when we come up looking backward at each other, I shall know you only of all that company.

In the passage of their lives together every object in the garden, every item in the house, every word they spoke, arrested to their mutual love, the combining of their humours.

Love of two things often makes one thing right. Think of the fish racing the sea, their love of air and water turning them like wheels, their tails and teeth biting the water, their spines curved round the air.

We don't go to Shakespeare to find out about life in Elizabethan England; we go to Shakespeare to find out about ourselves now.

You know what man really desires?" inquired the doctor, grinning into the immobile face of the Baron. "One of two things: to find someone who is so stupid that he can lie to her, or to love someone so much that she can lie to him.

I put my hand on the poor bitch of a cow and her hide was running water under my hand, like water tumbling down from Lahore, jerking against my hand as if she wanted to go, standing still in one spot; and I thought, there are directions and speeds that no one has calculated, for believe it or not that cow had gone somewhere very fast that we didn't know of, and yet was still standing there.

I have been loved,' she said, 'by something strange, and it has forgotten me.

For a lover who dies, no matter how forgotten, will take somewhat of you to the grave.