Quotes About Comfort

Women have been conditioned to please. We are responsible not just for ourselves but everyone in our orbit. We think it is our job to comfort the man. We think we can make things better by sacrificing a bit of ourselves. But you're also right to ask. It's the first thing I tell my clients: If you're ready to end it, end it. Make a clean break and don't look back. You don't owe him anything.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her and appreciated her and wanted us, especially now that Mom was gone, to be closer, that I know Mom would have wanted that. But I couldn't. I hugged her instead. Selma stiffened at first, startled by my aberrant display of affection, but then she relaxed. "It'll be okay," she told me. I

Her comfort zone was protecting these moments, not participating in them.

He squinted at the fluorescent light on the white ceiling. The Spanish praying continued. The familiar smell filled the air, that combination of harsh cleaners, bodily functions, wilting fauna and absolutely no natural air circulation. Mike's head dropped to the left. He saw the back of a woman hunched over a bed. Her fingers moved over the prayer beads. Her head seemed to be resting on a man's chest. She alternated between sobs and prayers—and a blend of the two. He

Her head hit the pillow without argument and, poof, sleep.

Well, well." He turned toward the doorway. The nurse, a heavy woman with reading glasses perched upon her huge bosom, strolled in. Her name tag read BERTHA BONDY. She looked down at him and frowned. "Welcome to the free world, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?" It took Mike a second or two to find his voice. "Like I kissed a Mac truck." "Probably be more sanitary than what you were doing. Are you thirsty?" "Parched." Bertha

You're okay," Myron said to him, cupping the boy's head. "It's over now." But it wasn't. An

Home was a secure haven for that—a familial cone of honesty, if you will.

seeking comfort through continuity, as grand voices somehow hold off the permanent darkness that gathers though it does not fall.

When a member of a unit (military or non-military) loses his life, or when a member has a death in the family, it's the duty of the leader to take sincere action in expressing personal condolences, sympathy or any other appropriate steps considering the circumstances.

He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.

You can pet him, Mr. Arthur. He's asleep...

There was nowhere to go, but I turned to go and met Atticus's vest front. I buried my head in it and listened to the small internal noises that went on behind the light blue cloth: his watch ticking, the faint crackle of his starched shirt, the soft sound of his breathing. 'Your stomach's growling,' I said. 'I know it,' he said.

Miss Maudie's hand closed tightly on mine, and I said nothing. Its warmth was enough.

I willed myself to stay awake, but the rain was so soft and the room was so warm and his voice was so deep and his knee was so snug that I slept.

It's like bein' a caterpillar in a cocoon, that's what it is ... Like somethin' asleep wrapped up in a warm place. I always thought Maycomb folks were the best folks in the world, least that's what they seemed like

It was a place where, if troubles did not vanish, they were made bearable.

The one thing she liked most about Henry Clinton was that he let her be silent when she wanted to be. She did not have to entertain him.

Wouldn't you stay in the house if you didn't want to come out?

Come to me. When you can't stand it any longer, come to me.

There's nothing like a blood-curdling hymn to make you feel at home

furthermore, I should be a ray of sunshine in my father's lonely life. I suggested that one could be a ray of sunshine in pants just as well

This is one good thing about life that never changes, she thought. As long as he lived, as long as she returned, Mr. Fred would be here with his . . . simple welcome. What was that? Alice? Brer Rabbit? It was Mole. Mole, when he returned from some long journey, desperately tired, had found the familiar waiting for him with its simple welcome.

Mr. Fred shook hands with her, said he was glad to see her, drew out a wet Coke from the machine, wiped it on his apron, and gave it to her. This is one good thing about life that never changes, she thought. As long as he lived, as long as she returned, Mr. Fred would be here with his...simple welcome. What was that? Alice? Brer Rabbit? It was Mole. Mole, when he returned from some long journey, desperately tired, had found the familiar waiting for him with its simple welcome.