Quotes About Connection

A man and a woman can love each other so deeply that their hearts beat as if they were one heart, and yet, at the same time, know that they are utterly hopelessly different.

the smell of him and the touch of his skin, I feel my desire for him rise again and we move together.

I am too young to understand that a man and a woman can love each other so deeply that their hearts beat as if they were one heart, and yet, know that they are utterly and hopelessly different.

For a moment I did not even see the king, I saw only the two of us, bound to be each other's grief

We fell asleep wrapped in each other as if we could not bear to part, even in sleep we could not bear to let each other go.

Barthes me lisait, donc on s'est rencontrés.

I will love you forever, whatever happens. Till I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead I'll drift about forever, all my atoms, till I find you again...

Here on this deck, millions of other universes exist unaware of one another... He raised his wings and spread them wide before folding them again. There, he said, I have just brushed ten million other worlds, and they knew nothing of it. We are close as a heartbeat, but we can never touch or see or hear these other worlds...

she delighted in being of the same substance as them, and in knowing that when she died her flesh would nourish other lives as they had nourished her.

I was connected to God like that, and because he was there, I was connected to the whole of his creation.

Because she is my sister, and therefore one-half of me.

He will never understand what happened that day between a young man and a young woman. There was a magic: and the name of it was love.

I can speak of our baby like this to no one else. Who but his father would linger over the exact width of his gummy little smile or the blueness of his eyes, or the sweetness of his little lick of tawny hair on his forehead?

Aye, we all know your fondness for apples, brother.

Gossip isn't scandal and its not merely malicious. It's chatter about the human race by lovers of the same

Last of all, I take the lard bread from my pocket and feed it to Shiloh in little pieces, letting him lick my fingers after every bite. I wrap my arms around him, pat him, run my hands over his ears, even kiss his nose. I tell him about a million times I love him as much as I love my ma. The

Whatever did girls do without sisters?

Eddie, Beth, and Caroline, this is . . ." She paused, waiting for the boys to say their own names. "Josh," said Jake. "Jake," said Josh. "Peter," said Wally. "Wally," said Peter.

But . . . but what will we talk about? We can't just sit here staring at each other and stuffing cookies in our mouths!" Beth had protested, and Caroline noticed that her cheeks were strangely pink. "Why, Beth, we'll talk about whatever comes to mind. With eleven people in a room, it shouldn't be hard to think of something to say.

Why the Hatfords? Who else was as much fun to tease, trick, fool, annoy, harass, and just plain drive to distraction?

Writing is, in the end, that oddest of anomalies: an intimate letter to a stranger.

Sitting still as a way of falling in love with the world and everything in it;

So it is that Lonely Places attract as many lonely people as they produce, and the loneliness we see in them is partly in ourselves.

Was it only through another that I could begin to get at myself?