Quotes About Connection

those who belong properly to books, and to whom books, perhaps, do not quite so properly belong.

what an angle you make with each other as you lie there in contemplation.

Up to then, neither Mother nor Pop had any immediate church connections, but used to meet with a few others at spiritualistic seances, sometimes at home, sometimes elsewhere around the block. A prime mover in this form of religious service was old man Demarest, a devout believer. The chief tenet of these earnest persons was that the dead did live as spirits about us and would come or could be called to us at certain times by prayer or otherwise. There were curious consequences.

stockings, shoes, hairpins your bed, I wrapped myself round you –

But love is unworldly, and nothing comes of it but love...

If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.

Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind, and that can lay hold of nothing but you.

Well, I shall understand your lingo one of these days, cousin.

Love and sex are twin arts, requiring effort and knowledge. Only in fairy tales do people live happily ever after without working at it ...

The book which you read from a sense of duty, or because for any reason you must, does not commonly make friends with you.

My mother is a fish.

It takes two people to make you, and one people to die. That's how the world is going to end.

She is like all the rest of them. Whether they are seventeen or fortyseven, when they finally come to surrender completely, it's going to be in words.

It is as though the space between us were time: an irrevocable quality. It is as though time, no longer running straight before us in a diminishing line, now runs parallel between us like a looping string, the distance being the doubling accretion of the thread an not the interval between.

It's because I'm alone.. If I could just feel it, it would be different, because I would not be alone. But if I were not alone, everybody would know it. And he could do so much for me, and then I would not be alone. Then I could be all right alone.

Did you ever have a sister? did you?

He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn't need a word for that anymore than for pride or fear.

When the switch fell I could feel it upon my flesh; when it welted and ridged it was my blood that ran, and I would think with each blow of the switch: Now you are aware of me! Now I am something in your secret and selfish life, who have marked your blood with my own for ever and ever.

Caddy put her arms around me, and her shining veil, and I couldn't smell trees anymore and I began to cry.

All of us labor in webs spun long before we were born.

He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn't need a word for that anymore than for pride or fear.

Only her eyes seem to move. It's like they touch us, not with sight or sense, but like the stream from a hose touches you, the stream at the instant of impact as dissociated from the nozzle as though it had never been there.

Poate c? au avut dreptate când au pus dragostea în c?rÈ›i, se prea poate ca ea s? nu poat? exista în alt? parte.

Caddy olía como los árboles cuando llueve y como cuando ella dice que estamos dormidos.