Quotes About Connection

We're here to keep you in one piece, if you ignore us, you're quite likely to end up in two pieces, or lots of pieces, it's all part of the paradox.

Neither parent spoke. Milo stood between them like a lighthouse between the rocks and the shipwreck.

Donde naces — en lo que naces, el lugar, la historia del lugar, cómo esa historia se imbrica con la tuya— deja una impronta en quién eres, por mucho que digan los expertos en globalización.

She wanted to kiss the hesitation of his throat.

And you and me in the car where we've always been, where we'll always be, this night, this road, even when we're gone and the road is gone and the city is gone but we'll be here because everything is imprinted forever with what it once was.

Cuando eres un niño solitario siempre encuentras un amigo imaginario.

Reading is a life-long collision with minds not like your own.

Didn't they like you? Didn't they, like you, need a heart that was a book with no last page? Turn the leaves.

First there is the forest and inside the forest the clearing and inside the clearing the cabin and inside the cabin the mother and inside the mother the child and inside the child the mountain.

To love someone else enough to forget about yourself even for one moment is to be free.

The poem finds the word that finds the feeling.

What you fuck is much more important than how you write.

He had the dog on a lead and he was still managing to be a boy with a dog and the dog was still managing to be a dog with a boy because not even a bomb gets to wipe out everything

We know the world by and through our bodies.

She was such a solitary woman. A solitary woman who longed for one person to know her. I think I do know her now, but it is too late.

I couldn't know her well and yet I did know her well. Not facts and figures, I was endlessly curious about her life, rather a particular trust. That afternoon, it seemed to me I had always been here with Louise, we were familiar.

I didn't only want Louise's flesh, I wanted her bones, her blood, her tissues, the sinews that bound her together. I would have held her to me though time had stripped away the tones and textures of her skin. I could have held her for a thousand years until the skeleton itself rubbed away to dust. What are you that makes me feel thus? Who are you for whom time has no meaning?

Lovers are not at their best when it matters. Mouths dry up, palms sweat, conversation flags and all the time the heart is threatening to fly from the body once and for all. Lovers have been known to have heart attacks. Lovers drink too much from nervousness and cannot perform. They eat too little and faint during their fervently wished consummation.

I am busy with the Lord in Wigan

and what is memory but a rope slung across time?

Passion is sweeter split strand by strand.

How else can I know you but through the body you rent? Forgive me if I love it too much.

I nodded. He threw his paper at me. Here, keep up with the world, even if you don't want to join it.

We were patient enough to count the hairs on each other's heads, too impatient to get undressed. Neither of us had the upper hand, we wore matching wounds.