Quotes About Connection

Gwenhwyfar looked at her husband and quivered like a leashed hound with the scent.

Tell my mother: They are my people. They are my path. It's where I belong. She'll understand.

Hild nodded, but couldn't say anything. Soft, shocking echoes lapped at her bones and squeezed her insides. Gwladus kept stroking her belly and the echoes began to run into one another like ripples on a pond, and then slowly calmed.

How had she managed to get inside me, slip between my ribs and rest against my heart without me feeling it?

Julia laughed and picked up the pace and for a while we swung along in the opposite step, hip to hip, her right leg moving out with my left, so I could feel her boot hit the ground, feel it through the soles of my feet, up to my calves, in my pelvis. It didn't last, of course. My legs are longer.

She held out her hands and we hugged. I remembered when she used to engulf me. Now I was an inch or two taller, though her bone and muscle still felt like granite.

She watched her mother, and Begu, and Gwladus, and felt, for the first time in an age, at home and ordinary.

While she watched, she let her own feet find their way; she knew every root, every rut and hare scrape, every fallen bough in this glade.

They both turned to look at me and I wondered how a person could become the outsider so fast.

She looked him in the eye, the eyes she'd seen wide with lust, not with tears, shining with joy.

We both love her, as we love each other. We will not set her aside.

Her own sea-grey with green to his sea-green with grey.

I didn't believe in ki, or the energy from the earth, or light shooting out of fingertips, but the fact was, when I relaxed and thought about energy flowing smooth and liquid through my arms, my arm didn't bend.

We could acknowledge it between us as long as it remained unspoken.

She liked the feel of him. He was clever, but straight-grained. Sound as an oak staff.

She longed for the sound of girls' voices or a woman singing as she fed chickens.

Her lips were soft and plump as rain and Peretur wanted to plunge her hands deep into her golden yellow hair, deep under her skirts to the soft places beneath, and she could feel their hearts thundering like horss, like hoses yoked and racing together, pulling towards the same goal, beanth tearing in and out.

They took a moment, the grown man in clothes foreign to him and the young girl in splendour she could barely carry, and understood each other. He laughed.

Whoever you are, Peretur, I would have you.

They reckon you feel love in your heart but that's bollocks. True love, the type what strikes you down and makes you change for ever, you feel that kind of love in every fucking organ inside you.

True love, the type that strikes you down and makes you change forever, you feel that kind of love in every f*****g organ inside you. Liver, kidneys, heart, and spleen. Every tiny cell what makes up your brain and your spine, your bones and blood and muscles. It keens through you.

Faith is not knowledge of an object but communion with it.

Quisiéramos no acariciar el cuerpo que amamos, sino ser la caricia.

Unnütz, jemandem einen Gedanken erklären zu wollen, dem eine Anspielung nicht genügt.