Quotes About Connection

If the world misunderstands us, as it sometimes does, or is indifferent to our sorrows, as it often is, then the loyalty of a dog may remind us that at least in one heart are we loved and admired without question and without thought of reward or advantage.

TEA IS ALWAYS THE SOLUTION

He introduced himself and I fell in love with him there and then. It took two minutes, at the most. It was like getting an anaesthetic. You start counting backwards from ten and you're out by the time you get to eight. Bang. Love.

Love had transformed the world for me. Transformed it.

Mma Ramotswe stepped forward and put an arm around Patience's shoulder. "Mma, " she said, "I see you." It was the oldest and simplest of African greetings: I see you. It implied so much more than it said, though, because it meant that Mma Ramotswe saw not only the person standing before her, but all that lay behind her – who she was, where she came from, how she felt.

His dog might not be so much of an asset, but there was no rule that one had to declare a dog on the first date. That could be revealed later, when the relationship was strong enough to allow for disclosure of dogs, or even children.

It was a maze of wires, but he was soon able to see just where the key slotted into the ignition and to make out the points which must be bridged.

Love and loss—two things that went together, it seemed, with a poignant inevitability; we loved, knowing that we would lose, but loved nonetheless because...She stopped. Yes, because we did not choose to love; we loved because we had to. Love was something that happened to us; it was never planned, even if we knew that some day, at some moment, it might alight upon us and—we hoped—change everything.

But that's what the world is all about, Jamie. Stories. Stories explain everything, bring everything together.

That was the marvelous thing about going back to one's roots; there was no need for explanation.

It was safer, he thought, to keep it to himself; because there are many ways of loving.

have misgivings about people not having a spiritual life. It's so Ã¢â'¬Â¦ so shallow. I sometimes think that life without a spiritual dimension must be like being made of cardboard—and as deep and satisfying." She paused. "I feel that there is something there—some force, or truth, perhaps—to put it at its most general. I sense it, and I suppose I'd even go so far as to say that I yearn for it. I want it to be. Maybe that's God.

And it was not surprising, perhaps, that he should feel it—this little boy who felt things so deeply; for we all feel that about our friends; we all feel that about those around whom we might put an arm. We all feel that about the darkness into which we go with others and about the very understandable fears that can be so easily dispelled, put to flight, by a simple gesture

Alexander McCall Smith

The forges of friendship, thought Angus, may be busy ones, but their dorrs are always open.

That's the way things are, don't you think? It's human nature. We do things for people we know. Everybody does that.

She had always understood that love could have an intense physical effect; could fill a space somewhere in the chest, could turn knees weak, could raise the pulse; could intoxicate, just as could a strong martini or a glass of champagne. Could, she thought, and would…but only if you allowed it, only if you opened whatever portals of the heart needed to be opened. And some people, of course, found it difficult to do that.

His particular insight was that we need to be at home; all his concerns with division within ourselves, with the tragic flaws in our nature, with the thwarting of love—all these point to the need that he felt we had within us to locate ourselves in a place we could live in with love, with people with whom we could share.

Look at the way people try to make points of contact with others when they meet. Look at the way you instinctively try to establish whether somebody you meet for the first time knows somebody you know.

So it was in Botswana, almost everywhere; ties of kinship, no matter how attenuated by distance or time, linked one person to another, weaving across the country a human blanket of love and community. And in the fibres of that blanket there were threads of obligation that meant that one could not ignore the claims of others. Nobody should starve; nobody should feel that they were outsiders; nobody should be alone in their sadness.

Whoever you be, O my reader- friend, foe- I wish with you to part at present as a pal. Farewell. Whatever you in my wake sought in these careless strophes- tumultuous recollections, relief from labors, live pictures or bons mots, or faults of grammar- God grant that you, in this book, for recreation, for the daydream, for the heart, for jousts in journals, may find at least a crumb. Upon which, let us part, farewell!

Perhaps you'd like, you gentle fellow, To hear what I'm prepared to say On kinfolk and their implications? Well, here's my view of close relations: They're people whom we're bound to prize, To honor, love, and idolize, And following the old tradition, To visit come the Christmas feast, Or send a wish by mail at least; All other days they've our permission, To quite forget us if they please- So grant them, God, long life and ease!

Listen, my little peasant

Oh! my little father, Petr' Andréjïtch