Quotes About Bond

I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.

Whatever it was had become essential to their lives. The pair had been inseparable since the day Owen stuck his fingers in Luna's mouth.

Julia edged closer, wondering what kind of vocabulary dogs understood. Frederico Fellini, her cat, was an intellectual and she could talk about books and films to him, as long as it was after he'd been fed, and fed well. She had the vague notion that dogs preferred football and politics.

His son. That funny creature that looked like a skinned rabbit was his son.

They were bound by the most ancient law of all. He had fought and killed for her. She was his.

I love...being with you.

But then two lost souls searching for an escape should connect, I reason.

I have that sense of connection with her.

Then he says, "In a way, no one else has. No one.

Husband," she said and her lips curved, before she grinned. "Since we can't wear wedding rings and still shift, do I get my fur lined cuffs instead?

My brother is looking for a violin. He has to believe this one is special, perhaps one of the three our father owned, one of which our mother claimed hid a secret—the "recipe," as Sofia had said, writing in obvious code, to make the renowned Stradivarius violin worth tens of millions of dollars. But I don't care about the recipe. I care about finding my brother.

May and I are sisters. We'll always fight, but we'll always make up as well. That's what sisters do: we argue, we point out each other's frailties, mistakes, and bad judgment, we flash the insecurities we've had since childhood, and then we come back together. Until the next time.

Maybe we're all like that with our mothers. They seem ordinary until one day they're extraordinary.

In our country we call this type of mother love teng ai. My son has told me that in men's writing it is composed of two characters. The first means pain; the second means love. That is a mother's love.

As she spoke, I wanted to cry, because sometimes it's just so damn hard to be a mother. We have to wait and wait and wait for our children to open their hearts to us. And if that doesn't work, we have to bide our time and look for the moment of weakness when we can sneak back into their lives and they will see us and remember us for the people who love them unconditionally.

How do we fall in love? ... How different it is with friendship. No one picks a friend for us. We come together by choice. We are not tied together through ceremony or the responsibility to create a son. We tie ourselves together through moment. The spark when we first meet. Laughter and tears shared. Secrets packed away to be treasured, hoarded, and protected. The wonder that someone can be so different from you and yet still understand your heart in a way no one else ever will.

Words are the bricks and mortar of love.

It mattered not where they were married. It only mattered that they were together, and never parted again.

Everyone always talks about how well mothers know their children. No one ever seems to notice how well children know their mothers.

You [meaning mothers] said good-bye a little every day -- from the minute they left your body until they left your home.

He must care for her and show her affection.

One of the best things a father can do for his daughter is let her know that she has met his expectations. My father did that for me, and no amount of effort on my part can fully repay the debt.

I learned that you need not be born into a family to be loved by one.

But the love of sisters needs no words. It does not depend on memories, or mementos, or proof. It runs as deep as a heartbeat. It is as ever present a s a pulse.