Quotes About Connection

Listening includes paying attention to the whole person, and especially their emotions. When we really listen, we give careful attention not just to the words a person says but also to the feelings he or she is trying to communicate. Listening requires attending to the other person's heart.

When we share love with the lonely, the boomerang of blessing lands right back in our lap.

Together, they were greater than either them could possibly be apart. Together, she prayed, they were invincible.

Sometimes the little things are the big things.

In fact, you could almost hold that no man is perfect until he meets the right woman.

You will be glad to know that Mary has made something special for dinner. Something edible, I hope. Her lips twitched. Absolutely. Then it's doubly a pity that I don't want dinner this evening. The hunger that roared through him had nothing to do with food. No dinner? But Mary- Are you hungry? She gave an odd flicker of a smile. I couldn't eat anything now if my life depended on it. Her admission relaxed his taut nerves. She was as affected as he was. Good. That's how it should be.

As Dougal ushered them into the dining room, he wondered if Sophia's father and her grandfather would both wish to stay at MacFarlane House with them. But as he looked into Sophia's smiling eyes, he realized it didn't matter. So long as she was by his side, life would be a grand adventure. And no man could ask for more.

Love can't cure a broken heart, but it can hold the two sides together while they heal.

He slipped his tongue between her lips and thrust it wantonly inside her mouth over and over, echoing the enticing move of his hips against hers. She clutched him closer, reveling in the feel of him, and the fact that she'd made him moan for her, whisper her name over and over, beg her without words for more. To kiss him more. To touch him more.

Mama G nodded and turned away, pulling a tissue from her sweater pocket and wiping her eyes. "I'm making this harder on us both." "Nonsense. You're scared. To be honest, I'm scared, too. But we're together and that isn't going to change.

He laughed, and it dawned on him that this was what he was going to miss the most—all the possibility that was Beth and he. The future moments like this, of laughing and loving. Of sharing and touching.

You and I are from two different worlds. Nonsense. We have much in common. We both like books, dogs, poems, Sir Walter Scott, dogs - I could go on. You listed dogs twice. It does not matter; I still made my point. No, you haven't.

Old Woman Nora of Loch Lomond To her three wee Grandaughters one cold night.

With a hoarse moan, he swept her against him, kissing her wildly, passionately, his mouth promising and teasing, as if her kiss had broken the dam that had held back his passion.

In the dolphin family, if one is lost, all are lost.

Trees are as close to immortality as the rest of us ever come.

Every mother can easily imagine losing a child. Motherhood is always half loss anyway. The three-year-old is lost at five, the five-year-old at nine. We consort with ghosts, even as we sit and eat with, scold and kiss, their current corporeal forms. We speak to people who have vanished and, when they answer us, they do the same. Naturally, the information in these speeches is garbled in the translation.

who knows you better than your own brother?

My sister, Fern. In the whole wide world, my only red poker chip.

We call them feelings because we feel them. They don't start in our minds, they arise in our bodies

It was one of those subjects to which everything that slithers across your brain seems relevant. I find this to be true of most topics.

Here is my objection to submarines and space travel: not enough windows. What difference does it make if you're in outer space or underwater, or wherever, if you can't feel, or hear, or see or smell it?

There's no data to suggest that I can make you love me whatever I do.

They never reminisced about the time they had to drive halfway back to Indianapolis because I'd left Dexter Poindexter, my terry-cloth penguin (threadbare, ravaged by love—as who amongst us is not)