Quotes About Connection

HE WAS FOURTEEN it was years ago and Sad's name wasn't Sad yet. First comet. G had just stumbled off a bus they looked at one another and that lasted until G was almost twenty but he. Well. Being a loyal soul himself. Sad's need to make friends everywhere. Sex friends club friends gym friends dope friends shopping friends breakdown friends a common enough problem. Sad didn't see a problem. One day he looked around and G was gone.

A translator is someone trying to get in between a body and its shadow.

I've come to understand the best one can hope for as a human is to have a relationship with the space where God would be if God were available, but God isn't.

no interaction with another person ever brought her a bolt of pure aliveness like entering the water on a still morning with the world empty in every direction to the sky.

Up against another human being one's own procedures take on definition.

Don't want to be free want to be with you.

Like two particles in a complex sentence we sit side by side moving forward, eyes on the road. Parataxis is a charged instant of language cold on the surface, unexplained underneath.

WHEN HE IS there they list the stones together. The stones are her lungs.

WHEN HE IS there they lift the stones together. The stones are her lungs.

What sense is there in pain at all—however we contrive it for ourselves as we cast about for ways to bind up the wound between us and God?

How does distance look?' is a simple direct question. It extends from a spaceless within to the edge of what can be loved. It depends on light.

How does distance look?" is a simple direct question. It extends from a spaceless within to the edge of what can be loved.

and there it was one of those moments that is the opposite of blindness. The world poured back and forth between their eyes once or twice.

New Ending. All over the world the beautiful red breezes went on blowing hand in hand.

?k voltak a tartály fenekén a legfenségesebb angolnák, és mint a dÅ'lt bet?k, felismerték egymást.

I hope that you will wave back to me from your distant shore, and understand the signal.

In fact, neither reader nor writer nor lover achieves such consumation. The words we read and the words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbola never perfectly match. Eros is in between.

Heart beating inside mine as she presses into his arms in the high blue room.

Could you visit me in dreams? That would cheer me. Sweet to see friends in the night, however short the time.

What is an adjective? Nouns name the world. Verbs activate the names. Adjectives come from somewhere else. The word adjective (epitheton in Greek) is itself an adjective meaning 'placed on top', 'added', 'appended', 'foreign'. Adjectives seem fairly innocent additions, but look again. These small imported mechanisms are in charge of attaching everything in the world to its place in particularity. They are the latches of being.

It is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together.

When I desire you a part of me is gone...

The words we read and words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbola never perfectly match. Eros is in between.

They were two superior eels at the bottom of the tank and they recognized each other like italics.