Quotes About Connection

Looking at her in the hospital he had thought, I don't know you, who you are, does it matter if we live or die?

No one said anything. We all just looked up at the sky and we breathed out and in and we all thought the same things, but nobody said.

You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I KNOW. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others would walk off and leave me talking. Or threaten me. No one has time any more for anyone else.

We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of growing on good rain and black loam. Even fireworks, for all their prettiness, come from the chemistry of the earth. Yet somehow we think we can grow, feeding on flowers and fireworks, without completing the cycle back to reality.

Usted no es como los demás. He visto a unos cuantos. Lo sé. Cuando hablo usted me mira. Anoche, cuando dije algo sobre la luna, usted la miró. Los otros nunca harían eso. Los otros se alejarían, dejándome con la palabra en la boca. O me amenazarían. Nadie tiene ya tiempo para nadie.

I miss that in the city you can walk outside your front door and there's people all around you. And they don't know a thing about you.You could be anyone.

When a man talks from the heart, in his moment of truth, he speaks poetry.

And he listened to me. That was the thing he did, as if he was trying to fill himself up with all the sound he could hear.

But most of all," she said, "I like to watch people. Sometimes I ride the subway all day and look at them and listen to them. I just want to figure out who they are and what they want and where they're going.

Ama biz arkada??z, dedi Douglas çaresizce. Her zaman öyle kalaca??z, dedi John.

Oh, they don't miss me, she said. I'm anti-social, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? Social to me means talking about things like this. She rattled some chestnuts that had fallen off the tree in the front yard. Or talking about how strange the world is. Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you?

When you strip all the clothes away and the doodads, you have two human beings who were either happy or unhappy

Then, of course, the telephone's such a convenient thing; it just sits there and demands you call someone who doesn't want to be called.

When you strip all the clothes away and the doodads, you have two human beings who were either happy or unhappy together, and we have no complaints.

No podemos determinar el momento concreto en que nace la amistad. Como al llenar un recipiente gota a gota, hay una gota final que lo hace desbordarse, del mismo modo, en una serie de gentilezas hay una final que acelera los latidos del corazón.

Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get . Life should be touched, not strangled.

No front porches. My uncle says there used to be front porches. And people sat there sometimes at night, talking when they wanted to talk, rocking, and not talking when they didn't want to talk.

There are too many of us, he thought. There are billions of us and that's too many. Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out.

ridges of his thumbprint. He touched me. As I said

You can only go with loves in this life.

Look," he tried, "put two men in a rail car, one a soldier, the other a farmer. One talks war, the other wheat; and bore each other to sleep. But let one spell long-distance running, and if the other once ran the mile, why, those men will run all night like boys, sparking a friendship up from memory. So, all men have one business in common: women, and can talk that till sunrise and beyond. Hell.

Love will fly if held too lightly, love will die if held too tightly.' I just want her to relax her grip a little bit.

And he remembered thinking then that if she died, he was certain he wouldn't cry. For it would be the dying of an unknown, a street face, a newspaper image, and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry, not at death but at the thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man near a silly empty woman!!

I sometimes think drivers don't know what grass is, or flowers, because they never see them slowly, she said. If you showed a driver a green blur, Oh yes! he'd say, that's grass! A pink blur! That's a rose garden! White blurs are houses. Brown blurs are cows.