Quotes About Connection

Everything we ever said to each other was in languages I'm starting to forget.

For me, other people are the point, but other people can disappear.

She laughed. 'Was she wine or bread to you?' 'What do you mean?' 'It's from an Amy Lowell poem we all loved in college. Wine is sort of thrilling and sensual, and bread is familiar and essential.' 'Wine, I suppose.' 'Would it have turned to bread?' 'I don't know.' 'It doesn't always.' 'No, I suppose not.

Third date, I want to say, but I can't with Silas. Our dates are not self-conscious like that. We don't acknowledge that they're happening or say what they mean. IT all feels a bit haphazard and weightless, and to call attention to this might let out too much of the air.

We're walking close and bump against each other. Another person might have just taken his hand and said, Are you ever going to kiss me? But I'm not that person. It always takes me by surprise when someone wants to kiss me, even if they've met me at midnight with wine and a blanket. People change their mind. Between the idea and the reality falls the Shadow.

I'm wondering how to tell him about Oscar. I want to know if it matters to him. IT seems like the only way to find out his feelings for me. It was easier to imagine doing this when he wasn't in the room, when he wasn't leaning over a table on his elbows, twisting up a chopstick wrapper with fingers that are unexpectedly familiar.

particular kind of pleasure, of intimacy, loving a book with someone.

Good heavens,' he says. 'Is that what it's like with your writers? The word "snug" and you're mad in love?

How does a man in Mississippi in the 1920s create a character who feels more alive to a waitress in 1997, remembered with more tenderness, than most of the boys she's ever known? How do you create a character like that?

It's important to him, presenting this to me. I take his hand and he pulls me in and kisses me on the temple and we look through the windows again as if the house and everything inside it belongs to both of us.

Love, he thought. It would come out soon enough. Words and feelings were all churned up together inside him, finding each other like lost parts of an atom. He didn't try to push them apart or away. He let them float in the new fullness in his chest.

We hold hands on the way back, but it feels like we're still kissing. My whole body responds to his hand in mine.

It was strong, whatever was between us, thick, like the wet air and the smell of every green thing ready to bloom.

You spend enough time at the racetrack, you know your horse, okay? You always know your horse.

There was nothing more to say so I kissed her and

Remember we're all in this alone.

We're all in this alone.

After all, in private, we're all misfits

Just remember, we're all in this alone.

We're all in this together alone.

So if you've had a good time tonight, or if you've had a good time any night, for gosh sake's why not drop a dollar in the mail to me?

Muldoon referred to an invention that Menlo Parker was currently working on, designing a miniaturized portable radio-telephone which the Omega operatives could carry on their person at all times, and by which they could always get in touch with one another, and also tap into the public phone lines to contact the police, fire department, or ambulance. The invention was by no means yet perfected.

Beyond anything we know to name, there moves a force arising from the pure juxtaposition of things, a force that draws us into being, that allows us to dwell fully in our lives. All pure juxtaposition is a gathering.

Anyone who wishes to learn to enjoy life must find friends of the same type of temperament, and take as much trouble to gain and keep their friendship as wives take to keep their husbands.