Quotes About Connection

You don't love someone because they're perfect, she says. You love them in spite of the fact that they're not. I don't know how to respond to that; it's like being told after thirty-five years that the sky, which I've seen as a brilliant blue, is in fact rather green.

But there is a different between mending someone who's broken and finding someone who makes you complete.

It was so damn hard to find love in this world, to locate someone who could make you feel that there was a reason you'd been put on this earth. A child, I imagined, was the purest form of that. A child was the love you didn't have to look for, didn't have to prove anything to, didn't have to worry about losing. Which is why, when it happened, it hurt so badly.

When I'm with you, bells go off in my head like a moving truck that's backing up.

Home is not a place, but rather, the people you love

If you live in each other's pockets long enough, you're related.

What makes you walk past thirty-thousand people without a second glance, and then you look at the thirty-thousandth-and-first person and know you'll never take your eyes off her again?

The way i see it, love is just a bigger, stickier form of trust.

Memories aren't stored in the heart or the head or even the soul, if you ask me, but in the spaces between any given two people.

I wonder if the conversations you've never had with someone count, if you've been over them a thousand times in your mind.

You did really great up there," I tell her, because I don't know how to say what I really want to: that the people you love can surprise you every day. That maybe who we are isn't so much about what we do, but rather what we're capable of when we least expect it.

It's never the differences between people that suprise us. It's the things that, against all odds, we have in common.

A dutiful mother is someone who follows every step her child makes...And a good mother is someone whose child wants to follow her.

Love has nothing to do with what you're looking at and everything to do with who's looking.

Anna is the only proof I have that I was born into this family. Instead of dropped off on the doorstep by some Bonnie and Clyde couple that ran off into the night. On the surface, we're polar opposites. Under the skin, though, we're the same: people think they know what they're getting, and they're always wrong. (Jesse)

When feeling came back, in a storm of color and force and sensation, the most you could do was hold on to the person beside you and hope you could weather it. Alex closed her eyes and expected the worst-but it wasn't a bad thing; it was just a different thing. A messier one, more complicated one. She hesitated, and then she kissed Patrick back, willing to concede that you might have to lose control before you could find what you'd been missing.

The thinnest slice would be teeming with memories of a love so strong it turned you inside out and left you gasping, and would be an identical match to a slice stored in the heart of a soul mate.

I pointed to the wound. It's missing, I said. My grandmother smiled, and that was all it took for me to stop seeing the scar, and to recognize her again. Yes, she said. But see how much of me is left?

But I didn't frame it; I put into an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it far back into a corner drawer of a filing cabinet. It's there, just in case one of these days I start to lose her. There might be a morning when I wake up and her face isn't the first thing I see. Or a lazy August afternoon when I can't quite recall anymore where the freckles were on her right shoulders. Maybe one of these days, I will not be able to listen to the sound of snow falling and hear her footsteps.

On the surface, we're polar opposites. Under the skin, though, we're the same: people think they know what they're getting, and they're always wrong.

It was always easier for me to show love than to say it. The word reminded me of pralines: small, precious, almost unbearable sweet. I would light up in his presence; I felt like a sun in the constellation of his embrace. But trying to put what I felt for him into words diminished it somehow, like pinning a butterfly under glass, or videotaping a comet.

Be kind to others before you take care of yourself; make whoever you're with feel like they matter.

That's what love is. It's some power greater than you and me, that draws us to one special person

Because hate's just the flip side of love. Like heads and tails on a dime. If you don't know what it feels like to love someone, how would you know what hate is? One can't exist without the other.