Quotes About Connection

Not some sham family, politely avoiding having to care about one another, but people who would share a surname and the task of weaving a collective meaning into that name. People would support and protect and staunchly cherish one another.

There were days when she'd open her eyes and be him for six hours in a row; she knew all his secrets and nothing he had done seemed wrong to her, she knew how it was, how things had been, she was there. There were days when he touched the tip of her nose and it was enough, a miracle of plenty. But who finds happiness interesting?

Whenever they were together they couldn't let sixty of their minutes pass without asking each other what time it was; as if time was a volatile currency that they either possessed or did not possess, when in fact time was more of a fog that rose inexorably over all their words and deeds so that their were either forgotten or misremembered.

She had had such a strong feeling that she needed to talk to someone who would tell her some secret that would make everything alright. She had been unable to think who it was.

So Harriet maintains her point, which is that joining isn't a question of effort or overextension thereof. You miss your chance to join several generations before birth.

When Jonas came to the phone I asked him if he remembered that we used to kiss. "I remember," he said tersely. "Is that why you called?

I have plenty of people around me to talk to, and no one to be honest with

Half of the hatred that springs up between people is rooted in their mistaken belief that there is any human relationship more sacred than friendship.

If love diminishes, it quickly fails and rarely revives.

And there we all were, Miranda, her father, her brother and I, sharing oxygen around a dinner table

Have you ever heard a note in someone's voice that said 'This is the end?' I heard it in the next words he said to me, and I stopped listening.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society (Chapter 12 title)

By the middle of the next day, Madame de Silentio knew that Reynardine had been released. This wasn't due to any psychic connection; it was due to the local news.

It seemed that every time Miranda looked at Eliot he had some of that bread in his mouth—with Luc's champagne marmalade, or mackerel, or honey, or butter.

Jennifer Silver lived quite long. She didn't die until 1994. A reason why Lily never felt motherless was that her mother was there with her, a door and a curtain away.

The situation improved once it occurred to them that they should also talk; as they came to understand each other they learned that what they'd been afraid of was running out of self. On the contrary the more they loved the more there was to love

If her fingers touched the photograph it was hers. If it was out of her reach then it belonged to the room.

Dad and Lily would never have this, they would never be old together and think inside each other's clockwork.

have liked for him to say my name again, though. You know how it is when someone says your name really well, like it means something that makes the world a better place. In Louis Chen's case, he sometimes says my name as if it were a lesser-known word for bacon.

Harriet didn't wish to see someone this passionate become a walking Druhástrana, cut off from the rest of the world.

there's a part of my heart or mind, or some spot where the two meet, a spot that isn't mine because I'm a wife. This part isn't really me at all, but a promise I made on a snowy day. A promise to stay and to be with (him) and to be good to him, and when there's no other way, I have to go to that promise to find my feeling for my husband. We walk the finest of foolish, foolish lines.... How can anybody love anybody else for more than five minutes?

It seemed wrong not to take a chance to meet people.

While waiting for her to phone me at school I'd feel seconds bursting inside me and leaving clouds. That won't come again—it can't. I'll never have that with anyone else. I'll never even come close.

I think they must have recognized something in each other, some poorly concealed intensity that other people find nerve-racking.