Quotes About Connection

Some words may make you happy, some may make you sad. Maybe some will make you angry. What I hope. . . what I hope is that something will whisper in your ear.

That night Aunt Mattie gave me a box wrapped in bright paper. "What is it?" I asked. "Open it," she said. "I made it for you. There's so much fuss for Anna that I was afraid you'd get lost." Caleb put his arm around me. "Cassie? Cassie's never lost. Except maybe in her head," he said.

Where's Cassie, Caleb? Is she asleep?" asked Sarah. Grandfather smiled. He leaned over and took Cassie's foot, sticking out from under the daybed. "I found you, Cassie," he whispered. "I found you.

SO FOUR DOGS AND A CAT

Patricia MacLachlan

Beatrice," said Grandfather softly. "Don't really see how Beatrice can have a name when her mother doesn't have one." "I think her name is Beatrice's Mother," said Mama. "What kind of a name is that?" asked Grandfather. "It's what we've got," said Mama with a smile.

You know," said Mama, "I'm going to go inside and rest. I feel tired." "I'll come in, too," I said. "I'll be in the barn," said Grandfather. "I'll come in later for a piece of cake." "Cakes don't last forever," said Mama. "Not with Grandfather around," I said.

Some words may make you happy, some may make you said. Maybe some will make you angry. What I hope. . . what I hope is that something will whisper in your ear.

Life is made up of circles.

I sing the songs I sang to you every night. I sing them so I will remember you, hoping that you will remember me too, even though I am here, and you are there.

Byrd: It is important because we are giving her something to take away with her when she goes. Lalo: What will she take with her? Byrd: Us. Sophie: And what will we have when she's gone? Byrd looked at Sophie and shook her head because she couldn't speak

This is important to writing. . . that is, it is important to my own writing. This. . . is landscape! Mine. This dirt came from the prairie where I was a child. I played in it, dug in it, planted in it, and walked over it. It is where I began. And all my writing begins with a landscape such as this. A place.

Dogs speak words, but only poets and children Hear.

Dot is lonely. Are you surprised? It's hard to find friends when you're only Dot-sized.

But for me, it feels like nighttime even in the brightest sun without my friend.

I nod yes-no-yes-no and run back to Ama, afraid to tell her about this new auntie who smells of amber and jasmine and possibility.

Inside my head I carry: my baby goat, my baby brother, my ama's face, our family's future. My bundle is light. My burden is heavy.

Dating's all about giving you chances to bump and brush and touch and, occasionally, talk.

There's three things I've seen in this world that seem to make a body happy or miserable. It's not money or health or any of those other things most people talk about. It's knowing where you fit in this world, being able to go after your dreams and love.

Joy connects us to something larger than ourselves," Beethoven explained, "while happiness is something more personal, something a little more selfish perhaps.

In my old age, I was at last being permitted to make the discovery that lovemaking gets better and better with time, if it's with someone you care for.

I had always known that I came back from the stars to pick my Mom. But Harlan had reached out to the stars to pick me.

You'd have to go through at least four different hugs to get from the kitchen to the front room. Those relatives!'.

You were born with the power to change others. You change people by the way you treat them. That is what changes the human heart.