Quotes About Connection

but the first days of loving someone are vivid; you remember them in detail because they represent all the others. They even explain why a particular love doesn't work out.

I often remember that dusty, ruined flat in old Beirut. And I know that a little part of me will stay there forever, laying out those treasures on the windowsill and playing at cat's cradle with my friend.

The greatest stories ever told trace a path through the charred and exalted landscape of romantic love.

Full-hearted fatherhood might save the world.

Prayer is allowing ourselves to be thirsty; it is a longing for something we just cannot seem to find. The Sufis say that our longing for God is God's longing for us. In this way, prayer is like a conversation between friends separated across time and space.

They got me reading people like physicist David Bohm with new and passionate interest. He helped me because he turned the essential question upside down. I'd been asking, since everything in the world looks so separate, how can the connections that would seem to be required by this evidence be possible? On the other hand, Bohm was asking, since everything in the world is interconnected, how come everything looks so separate?

Does that mean you

Despite popular theories, I believe people fall in love based not on good looks or fate but on knowledge. Either they are amazed by something a beloved knows that they themselves do not know; or they discover a common rare knowledge; or they can supply knowledge to someone who's lacking. Hasn't everyone found a strange ignorance in someone beguiling? . . .Nowadays, trendy librarians, wanting to be important, say, Knowledge is power. I know better. Knowledge is love.

All I can say is, it's a sort of kinship, as though there is a family tree of grief. On this branch, the lost children, on this the suicided parents, here the beloved mentally ill siblings. When something terrible happens, you discover all of the sudden that you have a new set of relatives, people with whom you can speak in the shorthand of cousins.

I didn't know what it was I was feeling. Then I realized it was seeing someone and knowing immediately that you love him.

And like all of us, your existence changes the world.

And so we were friends of a sort once more. We began to talk, stiltedly at first, but then with more ease. We had, after all, many interests in common. And if there was still a deep reserve, if fingers about to brush moved hastily apart, and if our eyes did not linger but met and winced away from hurt, outwardly, at least, there was tranquillity. I slept the better for it.

what was she like? she loved him, really loved him then, for an instant. this, this was easier.

I choose you. And I'll choose you. Over and over and over. Without pause, Without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I'll keep choosing you.

Another technique is to sit beside the bed and lay your hands on him. If your baby stirs, you can pat, rub, or shush him to prevent him from fully waking.

When your sweet new baby falls asleep in your arms, you look down at your child and the sensation of fierce protectiveness rises to the surface as subtle as a tsunami.

there is no such thing as holding a baby too often, cuddling a baby too much, kissing a baby too many times, singing too many lullabies, or breastfeeding a baby too often. When it comes to babies, there is definitely no such thing as too much love, and babies define love in very physical ways. I

He hesitated for a moment. Then he said softly, I love you, Mother. He took my hand and kissed it, and folded my fingers round the stem of the rose. He had stripped it of its thorns.

no eyes but mine will read these words. Why, then, the gentle Reader will ask, do I infer his or her existence by addressing her, or him? The answer should be obvious. Art cannot exist in a vacuum. The creative spirit must possess an audience. It is impossible for a writer to do herself justice if she is only talking to herself.

When my grandmother touches my hair in my sleep, I feel like a lost child. There is never enough of her to comfort me.

To each other, they talked at a gallop. Literature turned them on; their ideas flowed, ran back and forth like a current. (The Cousins)

Olive's private view is that life depends on what she thinks of as big bursts and little bursts. Big bursts are things like marriage or children, intimacies that keep you afloat, but these big bursts hold dangerous, unseen currents. Which is why you need the little bursts as well: a friendly clerk at Bradlee's, let's say, or the waitress at Dunkin' Donuts who knows how you like your coffee. Tricky business, really.

Because we all love imperfectly.

He wanted to put his arms around her, but she had a darkness that seemed to stand beside her like an acquaintance that would not go away.