Quotes About Connection

Laurel watched his lips intently as he spoke. He thought it was pretty amazing that she knew what he was saying just from reading his lips. But it also meant a lot of times her eyes were on his mouth, not meeting his gaze. Which gave him the sneaky ability to watch her more closely than he could anyone else, without her thinking he was staring.

Jess? Yeah? Would you be okay with it if I fell in love with you? My hear squeezed and I paused, my mouth a hairbreadth from his as I took in his words, as if I could breathe them into my mouth, my heart, my soul. Yeah, I whispered. I'd be very okay with it.

Do you understand?" I nodded. He kissed me again. "Do you trust me?" I nodded. His lips buried in my neck. "Do you want me?" Nod. "Absolutely." "Then don't be afraid. Don't ever be afraid when you're with me." "I won't," I whispered

Reese grabbed the back of the nearest easy chair and whispered, Honey, baby, come to mama.

I love you," he murmured. My heart swelled in appreciation the way it always did when he shared his feelings. "I love you, too.

No. Just stating facts. You and me? Inevitable.

Because you make me. Because I didn't exist, not in any way that matters, until I met you.

It will always be the ultimate, because you're my ultimate.

You have eyes that hold me so tightly I could fight for the rest of my life and I'll never escape.

There's a lot of telepathy, not individual telepathy so much as group telepathy, mind beating on mind, chaining you into a convention of business humdrum.

You can't have understanding without having empathy, and you can't have empathy without losing money.

The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.

I come from a home where gravy is a beverage.

I remember thinking how often we look, but never see...we listen, but never hear...we exist, but never feel. We take our relationships for granted. A house is only a place. It has no life of its own. It needs human voices, activity and laughter to come alive.

Friends are annuals that need seasonal nurturing to bear blossoms. Family is a perennial that comes up year after year, enduring the droughts of absence and neglect. There's a place in the garden for both of them.

Enter my first neighbor - a woman who spoke in complete, coherent sentences, who ate with a knife and fork and who only cried at weddings. I couldn't help myself. In a dramatic gesture, I bolted the door and threw my body across it to prevent her exit. She understood.

Every puppy should have a boy.

In Russia, as I sat there day after day wearing headphones, listening to the interpreter struggle to make our words relevant, I wondered if we could establish meaningful rapport with a nation that had never seen raisins dance in dark glasses on TV...never had a garage sale.

I brought children into this lousy, mixed-up world because when you love someone and they love you back, the world doesn't look that lousy or seem that mixed up.

The point is that if the love object is divine perfection, then one's own self is elevated by joining one's destiny to it.

Never to go on trips with anyone you do not love.

And you'll always love me won't you? Yes And the rain won't make any difference? No

If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it.

We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.