Quotes About Connection

the Empress said, her own breath coming in gasps, lips against her daughter's cold forehead and soft hair—her hair at least was still the same, soft, delicate, sweet cobwebs. . . .

But her soft lips were upon his, drinking his living breath, and he was now gasping in divine madness, pressing his mouth over hers like a drowning man, breathing through her. . . . "That

Soon, both his hands held her face between them, tilting her head back so that she felt as though she was swooning into the floor, into the ground, into the earth itself, while he opened her, consumed her from above and from the inside, and her gaze was turned heavenward, and he was the dome of her sky, its entirety. . . . They

Limit love and you limit life.

Flow is something the reader experiences, not the writer.

With luck, you were read aloud to as a child.

In the end, what matters most in life are the depth of your relationships with friends and family; and the sheer number of people you've helped along the way. These represent true measures of wealth. Financial wealth, then, is seen as a resource for fostering your relationships.

Some kisses are gentle and simply social; no more than a greeting, a brush on the cheek. Some exist only as a prelude to other activities. But our first kiss had a life and a meaning of its own. I felt that it marked the beginning of something important.

When a truly mature man has sex with a woman it is the same with him as if he had lunch with her. Afterward he casually remarks to the woman, "That was very nice"---while referring to either the sex or the salad.

While We are out of Touch or How to Survive and Prosper during the Next Thirty Minutes by Your Friend, the Mysterious Stranger

The beginning of trust has to be an in-person contact.

Viki skipped briskly through the morning chill, easily keeping up with the slower, longer strides of her big brother.

The heart of manipulation is to empathize without being touched.

Together? " Rose asked. "Are we -- together ?" He took one of her hands--it seemed so small and fragile in his own large, rough hand. Her porcelain skin looked even paler against his. " Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I knew that I had to make you my woman , It was a feeling that was stronger than anything I have ever known before, and I am a man who goes after what he wants." He pulled her close to him and let his gaze meet hers, as he added, " And, my Wild Rose , I want you.

What ? " Rose whispered. Her heart skipped a beat. " Did you just say l-love ?" He chuckled. " Love," he repeated. " I know enough to be certain what that word means in your language." Rose smiled as their gazes locked. " Yes, and it also means that we will find a way to be together--no matter what it takes." " I love you , Wild Rose," White Owl said hoarsely before he stole away her breath with another intoxicating kiss.

It seemed like there was no shortage of things for us to talk about: it was like we were, in dialogue, reading a book that had no chapters and no end. There seemed to be no place to break. We walked each other back and forth until our mothers threatened to take a switch to our behinds. In this very literal way, I came to think of a homegirl as someone with whom the soul conversation is so deep and so stirring that you keep walking each other home.

Beyonce 1.0 had arrived, and the way she held the camera's gaze made us feel as if hers was a party we were all invited to.

My self is at one remove Because it has gone to you Who will not display The sense of me another, Being bound in yourself By my forlorn desire. And yet I would not not love If I could choose not to; For I require to play By hazarding myself To you, my self, the other Whom I always desire. — Veronica Forrest-Thomson, from "Canzon, for British Rail Services," Collected Poems and Translations (Allardyce Barnett, 1990),

In the afternoon, they stopped to eat on a rocky outcrop. Perry brushed a kiss on her cheek while she was chewing, and she learned that it was the loveliest thing to be kissed for no reason, even while chewing food. It brightened the woods, and the never sky, and everything.

She absorbed the terror and beauty of him and his world. Of every moment over the past days. All of it, filling her up like the first breath she'd ever taken. And never had she loved life more.

You nearly died today,' he says. 'I almost shot you. Why didn't you shoot me, Tris?' 'I couldn't do that,' I say. 'It would have been like shooting myself.' He looks pained and leans closer to me, so his lips brush mine when he speaks.

He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I'm afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too. 'Is this scaring you, Tris?' 'No,' I croak. I clear my throat. 'Not really. I'm only…afraid of what I want.' 'What do you want?' Then his face tightens. 'Me?' Slowly I nod.

Hearing him talk about his mother, about his intact family, makes my chest hurt for a second, like someone pierced it with a needle.

Are you asking me to undress, Tris?' A nervous laugh gurgles from my throat. 'Only ... partially