Quotes About Connection

In my case there is another distance, another schism. I don't know Bengali perfectly. I don't know how to read it, or even write it. I have an accent, I speak without authority, and so I've always perceived a disjunction between it and me. As a result I consider my mother tongue, paradoxically, a foreign language, too. As

Men require that you caress them with your expression

I believe that reading in a foreign language is the most intimate way of reading.

He avoids them, for they remind him too much of the way his parents choose to live, befriending people not so much because they like them, but because of a past they happen to share.

For Gogol Ganguli- The man who gave you his name, from the man who gave you your name.

Do I remind you of that night?" "Not at all," his father says eventually, one hand going to his ribs, a habitual gesture that has baffled Gogol until now. "You remind me of everything that followed.

He adjusted his body in relation to hers. His head angled down, his hand forming a canopy between them to shield her face from the sun. It was a useless gesture. only silence. The sunlight on her hair

Without saying a word to each other we know that, if we chose to, we could venture into something reckless, also pointless.

given that she barely saw her father, given that she continued to measure out her contact with him, whether to deny herself or to deny him, she could not be sure.

And so, instead of saying Ashoke's name, she utters the interrogative that has come to replace it, which translates roughly as "Are you listening to me?

Even those family members who continue to live seem dead somehow, always invisible, impossible to touch.

Most of all I remember the three of them operating during that time as if they were a single person, sharing a single meal, a single body, a single silence, and a single fear. -When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine

They were all like siblings, Mr. Kapasi thought as they passed a row of date trees. Mr. and Mrs. Das behaved like an older brother and sister, not parents.

Those who don't belong to any specific place can't, in fact, return anywhere.

befriending people not so much because they like them, but because of a past they happened to share.

the certain absence of certain foods on their plates conjuring his father's presence somehow.

To think that we will never again all be here together.

She had married Subhash as a means of staying connected to Udayan. But even as she was going through with it she knew that it was useless, just as it was useless to save a single earring when the other half of the pair was lost.

We were stating facts and at the same time arguing, an argument whose depths only he and I could fully comprehend.

A final image: Udayan standing beside her on the balcony in North Calcutta. Looking down at the street with her, getting to know her. Leaning forward, just inches between them, the future spread before them. The moment her life had begun a second time.

Perchè alla fine per imparare una lingua, per sentirsi legati a essa, bisogna avere un dialogo, per quanto infantile, per quanto imperfetto.

Were her mother ever to stand before her, even if Bela could choose any language on earth in which to speak, she would have nothing to say. But no, that's not true. She remains in constant communication with her. Everything in Bela's life has been a reaction. I am who I am, she would say, I live as I do because of you.

Se fosse possibile colmare la distanza tra me e l'italiano, smetterei di scrivere in questa lingua.

To translate a book is to enter into a relationship with it, to approach and accompany it, to know it intimately, word by word, and to enjoy the comfort of its company in return.