Quotes About Connection

Do you want me to leave this with you?" "Sure you don't mind?" "Nah." I handed him the carton and spoon. "Enjoy." My offer wasn't totally generous. I took perverse pleasure at the thought he'd think about me with each bite.

I'm a dreadful romantic. No matter what I go through in life, I want to fall in love with a man.

Love isn't rest. Love requires you, from time to time, to rip up your soul and replant it. To dare your lover to do the same. To muster sympathy where it seemed impossible. To be, perpetually, two kids joining hands, drawing breath, and deep diving.

You have to trust someone before you can have rituals with them.

I can't imagine what it would be like to have sex with a man. To be so intimate with another person. Not to hide anything. I don't know if I could do that. It would have to be a boy anyway, not a grown man, someone as scared as me.

He gets a condom out of his bag and rolls it on while I wait for him.

I'll never forget sitting with you and hearing you whisper, "Find someone to take back to our hotel room with us.

I was doing that thing the infatuated do, stitching destiny onto the person we want stitched to us.

Isn't that what intimacy so often is? Supposing you understand, conveying that you do, because you feel in theory that you could understand, and you want to, and yet secretly you don't?

Looking at someone who is looking at you was a drug as strong as any other.

I was a kid. I didn't know about love, that you see someone and whether or not they say much, they make the world suddenly different, a mysterious and more alive place that you can access only through them. And the new, better world falls lifeless and flat when they go away.

And there you were," he said. "In your cotton-underweared splendor.

It makes you feel good about yourself, especially in the beginning. It makes you feel good about other people. You want to give the whole world a break, a time-out, a tender regard. There

What happens between bodies during an insurrection is more interesting than the insurrection itself.

The special connection to reality, "with which all photography is endowed," according to Rosalind Krauss, does not quite apply. It does and does not apply. Krauss likens photography to fingerprints. To the rings that cold glasses leave on tables. A photograph, she writes, is closer to a death mask or the tracks of a gull on a beach than it is to a painting or sculpture. It's the residue of things we see, rather than a reconstruction of things we see.

Seks is geen ruilhandel, het is een schenkeconomie.

Ódiame. Incluso el odio es mejor que nada." Austin a Corey

Don't try to be someone you're not at the beginning of a relationship. Know who you are, accept and love yourself unconditionally -

The places in which we are seen and heard are holy places. They remind us of our value as human beings. They give us the strength to go on.

Perhaps we are no longer a kind people. More and more, we seem to have become numb to the suffering of others and ashamed of our own suffering. Yet suffering is one of the universal conditions of being alive. We all suffer. We have become terribly vulnerable, not because we suffer but because we have separated ourselves from each other.

Of course love is never earned. It is a grace we give one another. Anything we need to earn is only approval.

Sometimes just being in someone's presence is strong medicine.

Before every session, I take a moment to remember my humanity. There is no experience that this man has that I cannot share with him, no fear that I cannot understand, no suffering that I cannot care about, because I too am human. No matter how deep his wound, he does not need to be ashamed in front of me. I too am vulnerable. And because of this, I am enough.

The way in which we go to the grocery store may tell us everything about the way in which we live a life. The way we tend the life force in a plant may be the way we tend our own life force. We are exquisitely coherent.