Quotes About Relationship

A good relationship has a pattern like a dance ... The joy of such a pattern is not only the joy of creation or the joy of participation, it is also the joy of living in the moment. Lightness of touch and living in the moment are intertwined.

How hard it is to have the beautiful interdependence of marriage and yet be strong in oneself alone.

But it is the marriage relationship in which the changing pattern is shown up most clearly because it is the deepest one and the most arduous to maintain; and because, somehow, we mistakenly feel that failure to maintain its exact original pattern is tragedy.

The web of marriage is made by propinquity, in the day-to-day living side by side, looking outward and working outward in the same direction.

In a growing relationship, however, the original essence is not lost but merely buried under the impedimenta of life.

Is your adult child out of the nest--and all you dreamed he would be? Affirm him over and over; enjoy him as your dear friend. Don't tell him what to do! Don't tell his spouse what to do! Those days are over.

And she was attractive. She had an unusual mixture of innocence and individuality. A man who loved her might waken all kinds of passions in her, and high among them would be loyalty.

she hated the streak of cruelty she knew in him, the arrogance, the frequent insensitivity. And he was a fool where judgment of character was concerned. He could no more read a woman's wiles than a dog could read Spanish! He was consistently attracted to the very last sort of woman who could ever make him happy.

Friendship was at the core of every relationship that mattered--allies, parent and child, lovers. On its foundation could be built all the other palaces of the heart.

Dependence can make people hate those they depend upon. It could be a complex and exhausting relationship. Often it was better to be nursed by someone whose opinion does not matter to you.

Friendship was at the core of every relationship that mattered – allies, parent and child, lovers. On its foundation could be built all the other palaces of the heart. They

I am in love with you', I responded. He laughed the most beguiling and gentle laugh. 'Of course you are,' he replied. 'I understand perfectly because I'm in love with myself. The fact that I'm not transfixed in front of the nearest mirror takes a great deal of self-control.' It was my turn to laugh.

That is the crowning evil, that we can even go so far as to love each other, you and I. And who else would show us a particle of love, a particle of compassion or mercy? Who else, knowing us as we know each other, could do anything but destroy us? Yet we can love each other.

Perhaps I fear him because I could love him again, and in loving him, I would come to need him, and in needing him, I would again be his faithful pupil in all things, only to discover that his patience for me is no substitute for the passion which long ago blazed in his eyes.

I like you both! And that's better than loving you, for that's expected, you know. But liking you, what a curious surprise.

Then, are you master of us all? You didn't teach her that. Was she supposed to imbibe it from my quiet subservience?

You understood my soul, I thought, and now others are coming only to sack my heart of all its riches. What am I to do? We argued, yes, you and I, but it was with loving respect, was it not? I cannot endure without you. Please come to me, from wherever you are.

At last he stood staring at the old Reuben Golding he thought he knew so well, and neither had a word for the other that mattered.

he didn't know where I lived, because I think he feared, in his heart of hearts, that I didn't trust him, that my work had slowly eroded the love for him which I felt. But I did trust him...I did love him. I didn't love anyone in the world but him. I just didn't want anyone to know where I lived.

She's an era for you, an era of your life. If and when you break with her, you break with the only one alive who has shared that time with you. You fear that, the isolation of it, the burden, the scope of eternal life.

I understand the very definition of hate when I think of you.

Well, now I know, whether I believe in hell or not, that vampires can love each other, that in being dedicated to evil, one does not cease to love.

I like you both! And that's better than loving you, for that's expected, you know. But liking you, what a curious surprise.

It is a terrible thing to realize that you depend so much upon another; that your entire sense of well-being is connected to that one—that you need him, love him, that he is the chief witness of your life.