300 Quotes About Companionship

Sometimes you must embrace the feeling of being abandoned, until your deepest self warms to the thought of you being its closest companion.

To my mind, reaching out, reaching for one another doesn’t make what happened to those girls less of a tragedy, or make anyone less heartsick for them and their families. But point taken.You don’t want me to listen.You don’t want me to hold your hand. So that makes the need to do those things about me, not you.

She slips her arm around my shoulders and cradles my head against her breast.We breathe together. Slowly.Time passes, flowing, a long, less and less painful sigh. And I shut my eyes.Pain becomes only physical again.Fear recedes.Anger flickers for a moment longer, gas in the pipes after the stove has been turned off.She says, “I’ll take care of you.”And I feel gratitude and happiness rise up inside me: old friends, long-forgotten and yet much missed.

I like something warm under the covers. Books are cold comfort.

HE REMEMBERS NOW WITH SOMETHING LIKE A FULL-BODY FLUSH, HE REMEMBERS WHAT IT MEANS TO SHARE SOMETHING WITH SOMEONE, THE PARTICULAR ALCHEMY THAT CAN LIGHT THINGS UP.

April watched the rain a beat. “You need a lift to California, and you need money to do that. I’ve got a guy who can help you.”“But you don’t know me. I don’t know you.” “Yeah, but that’s how everyone starts out,” April said.

Books are cold comfort. I like something warm under the covers.

It was possible for Tilo and Musa to have this strange conversation about a third loved one, because they were concurrently sweethearts and ex-sweethearts, lovers and ex-lovers, siblings and ex-siblings, classmates and ex-classmates. Because they trusted each other so peculiarly that they knew, even if they were hurt by it, that whoever it was that the other person loved had to be worth loving. In matters of the heart, they had a virtual forest of safety nets.

I put my hands upon these books, remembering those nights of silence when our forearms had touched and we had read until sleep took us, the pages mixed between limbs and sheets.