Quotes About Comfort

I tighten my fingers around his. If we just hold on tight enough, it will all be okay.

Peter's gone away on his training weekend. It's only been one day and I'm already longing for him the way I long for Christmas in July. Peter is my cocoa in a cup, my red mittens, my Christmas morning feeling. He

I like him in sweaters. I get the urge to cuddle and pet him like a stuffed animal.

There's nothing cozier than a Christmas tree all lit up.

My mother was good at that, making people feel normal. Safe. Like as long as she was there, nothing truly bad could happen.

I lie back down and close my eyes and imagine his arms are still around me, and that's how I fall asleep.

Under the blanket I find Margot's hand and link my pinky with hers. "Sister swear.

I wished there was something I could say to take that look away, but sometimes there just weren't words.

I like him in sweaters.

My heart swelled. There are some things only a friend who's known you your whole life can say, and instantly, I felt a little better.

Before I could answer, Conrad said, "She's fine, and now it's time for bed. Good night, Belly.

When we first started all this, I was really happy just being at home with my sisters and my dad. It was cozy. And then we started hanging out, and it was like…it was like you brought me out into the world." At this his eyes go soft. "At first it was scary, but then I liked it too. Part of me wants to just stay next to you forever. I could easily do that. I could love you forever." He tries to make his voice light. "Then just do that.

I take a bubble bath and do all my rituals: face mask, loofah, brown sugar-lavender scrub.

When I get home, I go straight to my room, put on a soft nightgown, and release my braid. It's sweet relief to let it out. My scalp is tingling with gratitude.

Because of my big sister, the grief I felt about growing up was less acute.

That time, I slept in his room with him. We watched TV until he fell asleep, because he liked to sleep with the television on in the background. I couldn't fall asleep like that, so I waited until he did and then I turned it off.

I run water over a hand towel and I wet my face with it. My mom used to do this for me when I was sick. She'd put an ice-cold washcloth over my forehead and she'd switch it out with a fresh one when it wasn't cold anymore. I wish my mom was here.

I'm glad to have her company to take my mind off things.

Tears burn my eyes. "I'm just gonna go to sleep now," and I rest my head on Chris's shoulder, and I cry.

When it's finals week and you've been studying for five hours straight, you need three things to get you through the night. The biggest Slurpee you can find, half cherry, half Coke. Pajama pants, the kind that have been washed so many times, they are tissue-paper thin. And finally, dance breaks. Lots of dance breaks. When your eyes start to close and all you want is your bed, dance breaks will get you through.

I'd much prefer to be in my flannel pajamas with a cup of Night-Night tea and a book, thank you very much.

Peter is my cocoa in a cup, my red mittens, my Christmas morning feeling.

Are we together now?" is what I'm wondering, but I don't ask, because he puts his arm around me and tilts my head up to his, and I'm nervous again. "Don't be nervous," he says.

Thing feels good and normal and the same, which is a comfort.