Quotes About Connection

Traigo los ojos con que ella miró estas cosas, porque me dio sus ojos para ver:

Sentí cuando cayó en mis manos el hilito de sangre con que estaba amarrada a mi corazón.

Dice que ella escondía sus pies entre las piernas de él. Sus pies helados como piedras frías y que allí se calentaban como en un horno donde se dora el pan. Dice que él le mordía los pies diciéndole que eran como pan dorado en el horno.

Mi madre se llamaba María Vizcaíno y estaba llena de bondad, tanta, que su corazón no resistió aquella carga y reventó. No, no es fácil querer mucho, Juan

No sé lo que está pasando dentro de mí; pero a cada momento siento que hay algo grande y noble por lo que se puede luchar y vivir. Ese algo grande, para mí, lo eres tú. Esto lo he sabido desde hace mucho, mas ahora que estoy lejos lo he ratificado y comprendido.

Estuve leyendo hace rato a un tipo que se llama Walt Whitman y encontré una cosa que dice: El que camina un minuto sin amor, camina amortajado hacia su propio funeral. Y esto me hizo recordar que yo siempre anduve paseando mi amor por todas partes, hasta que te encontré a ti y te lo di enteramente.

Ni siquiera le robé el espacio a la tierra... me enterraron en tu misma sepultura y cupe muy bien en el hueco de tus brazos. Aquí en este rincón donde me tienes ahora.

I watched the trickles glinting in the lightning flashes, and every breath I breathed, I sighed. And every thought I thought was of you, Susana.

No me oyes? --pregunté en voz baja. Y su voz me respondió: --Dónde estás? --Estoy aquí, en tu pueblo. Junto a tu gente. No me ves? --No, hijo, no te veo. Su voz parecía abarcarlo todo. Se perdía más de la tierra. --No te veo.

Me di cuenta que su voz estaba hecha de hebras humanas

Me di cuenta que su voz estaba hecha de hebras humanas, que su boca tenía dientes y una lengua que se trababa y destrababa al hablar, y que sus ojos eran como todos los ojos de la gente que vive sobre la tierra.

Allá me oirás mejor. Estaré más cerca de ti. Encontrarás más cercana la voz de mis recuerdos que la de mi muerte, si es que alguna vez la muerte ha tenido alguna voz».

Their eyes met; neither would forget.

Amy Schumer: I did an interview with Jerry Seinfeld the other day. Judd Apatow: You did? Did you know him at all? Amy: We met a bunch of times at the Cellar, but I didn't know him well. He picked me up in a Ferrari, and then it broke down on [the] West Side Highway. It was a real piece of shit. It was smoking, it was real scary. Judd:

I am speaking of something deeper. I am speaking of everything a being can give another. This is what I offer you. I offer myself.

Anakin was sixteen years old. Impatience was wired into his being. Despite Anakin's strong Force connection, it would most likely take years before he developed true inner balance. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was supposed to have it already.

You have a solid team behind you. So reach out. He smiled. Just don't reach out and push me into a freezing river next time.

Never regret trusting someone. It proves you have a heart.

Why the hell didn't we just stay friends? That felt reasonably good. We had fun. I could tell him anything. Of course, he never told me very much about himself, but it didn't matter as much then. Now look at us. Throw some sex into the mix and it's like putting too much yeast in bread. It's all very fizzy and light and wonderful, but then is rises too high and can't support it's own weight and the whole thing falls flat.

My Oma, my grandmother told me that the best friendships often start with a quarrel. She said there's a closeness that comes from a good healthy fight that you can't get any other way, and I think it must be true. Look at CM and me. Our friendship started with a fistfight and twenty-two years later it's still going strong. The friendship, I mean.

Vivian Gornick's memoir Fierce Attachments

not an experience shared by most potential readers—I realized that, if I did it well, some of those readers could have that same experience of identification that I valued so much. Moments in my life might resonate with moments in theirs. They might even step right outside their familiar histories and share mine for a while.

Let's face it. We're undone by each other. And if we're not, we're missing something. If this seems so clearly the case with grief, it is only because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact. It may be that one wants to, or does, but it may also be that despite one's best efforts, one is undone, in the face of the other, by the touch, by the scent, be the feel, by the prospect of the touch, by the memory of the feel.

Why should our bodies end at the skin, or include at best other beings encapsulated by skin? –Donna Haraway, A Manifesto for Cyborgs