Quotes About Presence

whether he was with her or not, her voice had always been in his head;

I like the cursor blinking, the coffee drinking, the sitting thinking.

When we were speaking on the phone, I envisioned not a distinct person with a face and body, but rather a vague, faceless essence, as if their whole personality manifested itself into an aura that wasn't exactly physical as we know it.

If people we love die, then they are lost only to our ordinary senses. If we remember, we can find them anytime with our hundred secret senses. "This a secret

I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.

He had not touched me. He did not need to. His presence had affected me in such a way that I felt as if he had caressed me for a long time.

Anaïs, I could stay here all night writing you. I see you before me constantly, with your head down and your long lashes lying on your cheeks. And I feel very humble.

I felt him in everything. And what I felt was too deep.

Her presence had awakened in him a man suddenly whipped by his earlier ideals, whose lost manhood wanted to assert itself in action.

They who walk in the light do not see those in the shadow.

The main thing is to feel your presence—hear you humming or yawning, see your combs & brushes lying around, worry about which dress you should put on, etc.

everywhere i miss you.

She is so busy just BEING, talking, walking, making love, drinking, that she can achieve nothing else.

Ich liebe dein Schweigen, es ist wie meines. Du bist das einzige Wesen, in dessen Gegenwart ich mich wegen meines eigenen Schweigens nicht beunruhigt fühle. Du besitzt ein ungestümes Schweigen, man fühlt, dass es von Inhalten erfüllt ist. Es ist seltsam lebendiges Schweigen, wie der geöffnete Deckel eines Brunnens, aus dem man das geheimnisvolle Murmeln der Erde vernehmen kann.

Perhaps there is nothing at all, perhaps the mystery is that there is no mystery at all. Perhaps she is empty, and there is no June at all." "But, Henry, how can an empty woman have such a vivid presence, how can an empty woman cause insomnia, awaken so many curiosities? How could an empty woman cause other women to take flight, as you tell me, abdicating immediately before her?

To love anything, to appreciate anything, one has to live with it. Otherwise it has no meaning, no beauty.

You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me.

If you look at language merely as craft you are committing lèse-majesté towards your own sacred tools. You've got to have the proper respect—you've got to feel awed in its presence (see, I say "awed," not "sacred").

I love the sharing. I feel with extraordinary vividness your presence, as if you were reading with me. I actually experience again the sensation of my leaning over your shoulder and kissing your hair and neck while you are reading or writing.

I sat there for three hours and did not feel the time or the boredom of our talk and its foolish disconnection. As long as I could hear his voice, I was quite lost, quite blind, quite outside my own self.

The past has a way of walking around in the present, behaving as if it were alive.

There is By my leaning over the precipice Of your presence and your absence in hopeless fusion My finding the secret Of loving you Always for the first time

Every instant of our lives is essentially irreplaceable: you must know this in order to concentrate on life.

Que chaque attente, en toi, ne soit même pas un désir, mais simplement une disposition à l'accueil. Attends tout ce qui vient à toi, mais ne désire que ce qui vient à toi. Ne désire que ce que tu as.