Quotes About Connection

Death Cab for Cutie's "Transatlanticism

I didn't want to tell Lily that I felt we'd all been duped by Plato and the idea of a soulmate. Just in case it turned out that she was mine.

Being alone has nothing to do with how many people are around"? From Richard Yates's Revolutionary Road

I mean, what if love isn't a yes-or-no question? It's not either you're in love or you're not. I mean, aren't there different levels? And maybe these things, like words and expectations and whatever, don't go on top of the love. Maybe it's like a map, and they all have their own place, and then when you see it from the sky--whoa.

The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in the physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There's no getting over that." My

The way you're singing in your sleep The way you look before you leap The strange illusions that you keep You don't know But I'm noticing The way your touch turns into arcs The way you slide into the dark The beating of my open heart You don't know But I'm noticing And I'm moved, it's so beautiful.

It is not easy. Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you're friends is easy. Being friends is not.

But it kept being out there, and the thing was, even though I really liked her as a person, I didn't really think I liked her as a girl, because when you like a girl, there's this ignition—you can feel it—and with her, there wasn't any ignition, just conversation and hanging out and shit.

Librarians were like Mary Poppins to me. They always knew how to match a book to my mood, or to whatever I was going through at the time. I could always find peace in books.

There's no way for me to know she'll find me here. I didn't call. I didn't text. I left it up to old connection, that old friendship sense.

I wasn't going to be tempted to play the field or sow my oats; for me, Lily was the field, and she could have all of my oats. She didn't fit perfectly into my new life, but

For sure, the last thing I was going to write to her was All I want for Christmas is you.

The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There's not getting over that.

I miss him a lot. And we text and talk all the time, so he never feels that far. But I'm also happy to have some distance, to feel that I'm becoming myself without having to worry if the relationship is exerting too much influence. It's good to have each other, but you also need to have your own people, your own experiences.

I felt a sense of longing for him such as I've never experienced in my lifetime for any person, or even for any pet.

I want to believe that, despite all evidence to the contrary, it is possible for anyone to find that one special person. That person to spend Christmas with or grow old with or just take a nice silly walk in Central Park with.

I don't think we should ever try to meet again; there's such freedom in that. Instead, let our words continue to meet. (See next postcard.)

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat animals.

love is love, attraction is what it is, and why should the arbitrary assignment of genital parts determine whether or not you want to be with a person?

I haven't been able to reach her. And if I can't reach her, there's no way to keep her from being lost.

Well, I've been corresponding with a complete stranger in a notebook, telling him my innermost feelings and thoughts and then blindly going to mystery places where he dares me to go….

While my mind plays through the information I've compiled about him so far on this night, my mouth is talking stupid fucking Marshalls because my head is still getting around Nick's words about tikkun olam: Maybe it isn't that we're supposed to find the pieces and put them back together. Maybe we're the pieces.

It's definitely worth something," I said. "A lot. We still don't know each other, right? And I'll admit—I thought it might be best if we kept it all to the page, passed that notebook back and forth until we were ninety. But clearly that wasn't meant to be. And who am I to blow against the wind?

I want to believe that I exist to be there for that somebody.