Quotes About Connection

There are still ancient symbols alive

earth, sky, stars circling my heart

We were never perfect. Yet, the journey we make together is perfect on this earth who was once a star and made the same mistakes as humans. We might make them again, she said.

Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop. Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control. Open the door, then close it behind you. Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean. Give it back with gratitude.

Sometimes it is like facing the dreamer who knows the you of blood and stars—

Each human is a complex, contradictory story. Some stories within us have been unfolding for years, others are trembling with fresh life as they peek above the horizon. Each is a zigzag of emotional design and ancestral architecture. All the stories in the earth's mind are connected.

Black squirrel on a slag of stone--carry me home.

You're gone now, and I'm still in this predicament called living, Charlie. I imagine things don't change much when you cross the line. You're still you. And I'm still here at the other end of this long, long wave, listening.

There is a field of talking blood that I have not been able to reach, not even with knives, not yet.

I study and read poems and try to put myself in them.

I remember when there was no urge to cut the land or each other into pieces, when we knew how to think in beautiful. (Lines from Harjo's poem Emergence.)

The pervasive rhythm of her mother's heartbeat is a ghostly track that follows her.

The door to the mind should only open from the heart. An enemy who gets in, risks the danger of becoming a friend.

By listening we will understand who we are in this holy realm of words.

You savored each story they told you, and remembered the way the stars entered your blood at birth.

Her own daughter was born, like she had been, in either place or all places, so she could leave, leap into the sound she had always heard, a voice like water, like the gods weaving against sundown in a scarlet light.

Which is why we say I can't live without you meaning your life gives life to me, who am otherwise an empty vessel, nameless.

Whoever's reading this, if anyone is reading it: does it matter that our old selves are lost to us as surely as the past is lost, or is it enough to know yes we lived then, and we are living now, and the connection must be there? Like a river hundreds of miles long exists both at its source and at its mouth, simultaneously?

This was before voice mail, recorded phone messages you can't escape. Life was easier then. You just didn't pick up the phone.

Because nothing between human beings is uncomplicated and there's no way to speak of human beings without simplifying and misrepresenting them.

Only in love is there trust - even the possibility of trust.

The person you love best, you share the world with. When that person's gone the world remains but it isn't the same thing, it's at a distance.

Only where there is life can there be home.

Because we are linked by blood and blood is memory without language.