Quotes About Comfort

La Jeune Fille: Va-t'en, ah, va-t'en! Disparais, odieux squelette! Je suis encore jeune, disparais! Et ne me touche pas! » La Mort: Donne-moi la main, douce et belle créature! Je suis ton amie, tu n'as rien à craindre. Laisse-toi faire! N'aie pas peur Viens sagement dormir dans mes bras

This was Betsy and Tacy's private corner. Betsy's mother was a great believer in people having private corners, and the piano box was plainly meant to belong to Betsy and Tacy, for it fitted them so snugly.

I was assigned to the office of a recently deceased faculty member; the office hadn't been cleaned out yet, and a few days before the fall term began, I unlocked the door to find a dirty room whose bookshelves were crammed with empty bourbon bottles and crucifixes, mute testimony to the limits of literature as a sustaining comfort in life.

knocking back the wine and reaching for the cheap consolations of kimchee-scented Kleenex fiction

I can sleep like a champion. I once slept through a smoke alarm going off. For three hours. In my bedroom.

Life is always going to be a series of ouch-making moments, and the question was, was I going to go all fetal position, or was I going to woman up? I went into fetal position on the bed to think about this. Fetal position turned out to be very comfortable.

Kissing is something that makes up for a lot of other crap you have to put up with...It can be confusing and weird and awkward, but sometimes it just makes you melt and forget everything that is going on.

You probably don't like snow, right?' 'Oh, I like it,' Nate said. 'Snow makes it socially acceptable to stay in.

I feel warm and reassured, I whispered. He's like Santa.

Hot tea, he said, holding the cups. It's just wrong.

Slippers always seemed like kind of a nonsense item until she came to Ellingham and felt the bathroom floor on the first proper day of wintry weather. Once skin touched tile and part of her soul died, she knew what slippers were for.

Once skin touched tile and part of her soul died, she knew what slippers were for.

I have never, ever been so happy to see a house.

Hayes had a smile like a hammock—just get in, go to sleep, forget your troubles and cares.

Hello, Alice, Stevie said. It'd okay. It's over.

Oh, I like it," Nate said. "Snow makes it socially acceptable to stay in.

She never drank tea at home. Tea was for England.

Nate was a rain cloud, but he was her friendly rain cloud, and the world needs some rain.

It's good to be home," Iris said, putting her head on Albert's shoulder. "We've been gone so long." "We are all home," Albert said. "And here we will stay.

That's why I can sleep anywhere now.

Now that the weather had turned more chill, he could cheerfully—or what passed as cheerfully in Nate-adjusted terms—pile on oversized sweaters and baggy cords and scarves until he was a moving pile of natural and synthetic fibers.

She strode across the room like she had meant to be here all along and busied herself in the kitchen for a moment, filling the electric kettle to make herself a hot chocolate. She dumped two packages into a mug and looked at the pile of chocolate dust she intended to consume. Was this supposed to make up for something, this dust? Was it supposed to repair whatever in her that had ripped in two? That was a lot to ask of a mug of cocoa dust.

He seemed casually at home, as if he felt that the place belonged to them, as they always felt wherever they went together.

Certainly, I approve of it. Our culture has sunk into a bog of materialism. Men have lost all spiritual values in their pursuit of material production and technological trickery. They're too comfortable. They will return to a nobler life if we teach them to bear privations. So we ought to place a limit upon their material greed.