Quotes About Connection

At least once a dinner he would turn and catch me before I could feign indifference. Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that I felt anything at all.

I can smell him. The oils that he uses on his feet, pomegranate and sandalwood; the salt of clean sweat; the hyacinths we had walked through, their scent crushed against our ankles. Beneath it all is his own smell, the one I go to sleep with, the one I wake up to.

and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

He holds me so tightly I can feel the faint beat of his chest, like the wings of a moth. An echo, the last bit of spirit still tethered to my body. A torment.

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the Earth. I would him in death, at the end of the world

Later, Achilles sleeps next to me. Odysseus' storm has come, and the coarse fabric of the tent wall trembles with its force. I hear the stinging slap, over and over, of waves reproaching the shore. He stirs and the air stirs with him, bearing the musk-sweet smell of his body. I think: This is what I will miss. I think: I will kill myself rather than miss it. I think: How long do we have?

I would know him in death and in the end of the world.

Every moment he was with me, I felt a rushing in my throat, which was my love for him, so great sometimes I could not speak.

We reached for each other, and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake in this room loving him in silence. Later, Achilles pressed close for a final, drowsy whisper. "If you have to go, you know I will go with you." We slept.

Several things happened at once then. Achilles - for it was Achilles - dropped Deidameia's hand and flung himself joyously at me, knocking me backwards with the force of his embrace.

Podría reconocerle por el modo en que respiraba o en que pisaba el suelo. Le reconocería en el fin del mundo, incluso en la muerte.

he buired his face in his hands and did not speak. i held him and whispered all the bits of broken comfort i could find.

Néanmoins, dans une existence solitaire, il existe des moments rares où une autre âme plonge tout près de la vôtre, comme les étoiles qui s'approchent de la terre une fois par an. Pour moi, il avait été ce genre de constellation-là.

But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such

I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. If I had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth.

Lorsque nous sommes jeunes, nous croyons être les premiers au monde à ressentir chaque sentiment.

There is only her small hand on my stomach, and the softness of her cheek as I stroke it. It is strange how well she fits there.

He does not mean that it does not hurt. He does not mean that we are not frightened. Only that: we are here. This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what means to be alive.

I had no right to claim him, I knew it. But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as starts once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me

we reached for each other, and i thoughts of how many nights i had laid awake in this room, loving him in silence. later, Achilles pressed close for a final, drowsy whisper. "if you have to go, you know i will go with you".

If they did not weep, I would not either.

Every prince needs to know his lands, and there's no better way to learn than by grazing the goats.

I am only a nymph after all, for nothing is more common among us than this.

To horses, dogs and cats, to birds in cages, to pigs in sties, to sheep in folds, to cattle in stalls—to them all he sang his song and danced his dance! When he was eating out-of-doors he would pay court to the nearest toad or frog or blind-worm. When he was sucking an orange before going to bed, he would make overtures to a spider.