Quotes About Connection

What she wants most-what she truly years for-is what any of us want: to be seen. And look. She is.

It's hard to say what's in my head. It's been a long time since anyone cared to ask.

Actually, I did it because when we lived on Indian Island we had this turtle named Shelly.

Christina Baker Kline

EPIGRAPH "There was a very strange connection. One of those odd collisions that happen. We were a little alike; I was an unhealthy child that was kept at home. So there was an unsaid feeling between us that was wonderful, an utter naturalness. We'd sit for hours and not say a word, and then she'd say something, and I'd answer her. A reporter once asked her what we talked about. She said, 'Nothing foolish.'" —Andrew Wyeth

See the interlaced strands?' She touched the raised pattern with a knobby finger. 'These trace a never-ending path, leading away from home and circling back. When you wear this, you'll never be far from the place you started.

The hands clasped together symbolize friendship. The heart is love. And the crown stands for loyalty

Wandering among the cardboard boxes, Vivian trails her fingertips across the tops of them, peering at their cryptic labels: The store, 1960–. The Nielsens. Valuables. "I suppose this is why people have children, isn't it?" she muses. "So somebody will care about the stuff they leave behind.

And eventually-though neither of us knew it yet-we'd end up here, in this place, within and without the world of the painting.

Mathinna remembered what her mother had said about thinking of yourself as the thread of a necklace, the people and places you treasure as the shells. Maybe Wanganip and Hazel were saying the same thing: that if you love something it stays with you, even after it's gone.

What she wants most—what she truly yearns for—is what any of us want: to be seen. And look. She is.

Vivian has come back to the idea that the people who matter in our lives stay with us, haunting our most ordinary moments. They're with us in the grocery store, as we turn a corner, chat with a friend. They rise up through the pavement; we absorb them through our soles.

Every person you've ever cared about, and every place you've ever loved, is one of these shells. You're the thread that ties them together," she'd said, touching Mathinna's cheek. "You carry the people and places you cherish with you.

Nos aferramos el uno al otro como supervivientes de un naufragio, asombrados de que ninguno de los dos se haya ahogado.

Siento que toda mi vida ha sido un azar. Momentos fortuitos de pérdida y conexión. En cambio, esta es la primera vez que siento que es el destino.

The reading part of her feels private, between her and the characters in a book.

When Vivian describes how it felt to be at the mercy of strangers, Molly nods. She knows full well what it's like to tamp down your natural inclinations, to force a smile when you feel numb.

Vivian has come back to the idea that the people who matter in our lives stay with us, haunting our most ordinary moments. They're with us in the grocery store, as we turn a corner, chat with a friend. They rise up through the pavement; we absorb them through our soles. Vivian

Las cosas que importan se quedan contigo, se filtran en tu piel.

Christina Baker Kline

Well," she says, "I'm a Penobscot Indian on my father's side. When I was young, we lived on a reservation near Old Town." "Ah. Hence the black hair and tribal makeup." Molly is startled. She's never thought to make that connection—is it true?

and the National Orphan Train Complex in Concordia, Kansas,

This isn't bickering. This is classic mother-daughter communications. I've been reading up on it.

I am the only child in a room full of women and am immediately at ease.