Quotes About Relationship

Her husband was asleep beside her. She could

The story she then told was as all attempts at sympathy are: an effort to match in form and size and detail what another has known: to hold one experience next to another the way lovers and children match fingers and hands, as if these two, side by side, are linked by their likeness, are both identical and unique.

In therapy Katya realized how much her relationship with her son had been burdened by the shadows of her childhood, and memories of her mother came back to her more and more clearly, memories of the way she had refused to relate to her eldest daughter. Katya was now able to feel her infant needs and express them in a diary, from which her friend sent me an excerpt after Katya's death:

At the very first you were quite obviously and incomprehensibly indifferent toward me and probably for this reason seemed familiar.

If a mother can make it clear to a child that at that particular moment when she slapped him her love for him deserted her and she was dominated by other feelings that had nothing to do with the child, the child can keep a clear head, feel respected, and not be disoriented in his relationship to his mother.

Enforced love is not love. All it can lead to is a sham relationship without any genuine communication, a pretense of warmth and cordiality that does not really exist, a false avowal of affection designed to mask resentment or possibly even hatred.

The unhappiest moment I could never tell you. All our fights blend into each other and are in fact re-enactments of the same fight, in which we punish each other--I with words, Hugh with silence--for being each other. We never needed any more than that.

He seemed happy. She thought that she seldom concerned herself about Laurence's being happy. She wanted him to be in a good mood, so that everything would go smoothly, but that was not the same thing.

He said that we had just had an argument, what more did I want? It was too polite, I said.

They had something close in front of them, a picture in front of their eyes that came between them and the world, which was the thing most adults seemed to have.

On the way home he had explained that she wasn't his type. And she had felt too humiliated to retort – or even to be aware, at that moment – that he was not hers.

hector him like this from now on, when I could get him alone.

How am I supposed to know? She just wants to do it. You wait. You'll see. She'll get you over there bawling and whining about what a bastard I am. One of these days.

In quel momento la nostra dolcezza reciproca era senza nubi, senza strategie, e i nostri conflitti sembravano irreali. Si era aperto un cancello, molto probabilmente, ma noi non lo varcammo. (La dama spagnola)

What wouldn't be worth it? To see her a stranger that he couldn't believe he'd ever been married to, or to see that she could never be a stranger yet was unaccountable removed?

This is his burden- it never occurs to him to call it love.

Cuando el destino de una persona es tener un único compañero sentimental en la vida no hay por qué convertirlo en nada especial, ya lo es en sí mismo.

for me to say." He smiled; he shook his head. "I don't

I was the girl he had chosen to kiss. He wanted, somehow to set me free. He didn't want to burn my photo or toss it away, but he didn't want to look at me anymore, either.

He took the hat from my mouth. ''Tell me you love me'', he said. Gently I did. The end came anyway

She wasn't actually speaking to me, she was singing a kind of lullaby of talk. But, eventually, the music stopped.

Since their first kiss in our kitchen two weeks after my death, I had known that he was - as my sister and I had giggled with our Barbies or while watching Bobby Sherman on TV - her one and only. Samuel had pressed himself into her need and the cement between the two of them had begun to set immediately. They had gone to Temple together, side by side. He had hated it and she had pushed him through. She had loved it and this had allowed him to survive.

She had needed the time to know that this love would not destroy her, and I had, I now knew, given her that time, could give it, for it was what I had in great supply.

It was in these moments, I knew, that my father loved my mother most. When my mother was broken and helpless, when her hard shell was stripped away and her spite and brittleness couldn't serve her. It was a sad dance of two people who were starving to death in each other's arms. Their marriage an X that forever joined murderer to victim.