Quotes About Comfort

He wanted to explain that a scared part of him was still scared. That no matter how many times Dad explained that Buddy was safe, the scared part of him never heard, or never believed. But he had no idea how to frame such a thought with words.

But when I was inside, I was always OK. So I just started staying inside. Like I told you before, it gets to be an addiction.

Esta bien," Clara called back. They sat in silence a while longer. "You seem pretty relaxed," she said to Billy. "Pretty

The most important thing I can add from my own observations is this: Knowing it started from unremarkable circumstances should be a comfort to us all. Because it proves that you don't need much to change the entire world for the better. You can start with the most ordinary ingridients. You can start with the world you've got.

I can go to this love place and I can be okay.

stepped outside my comfort level and experienced a morning of joy. In my humble and exhausted opinion, joy beats comfort every time.

After a moment August felt Henry's arms wrap around his chest, and the little guy's face pressed up hard on his shoulder. "Don't be sad, August," the little mouse voice said.

It was a strange comfort, to simply trust her daughter to experience the world for herself. To learn on her own, instead of being force-fed lessons from jaded adults who thought they could predict the outcome of any situation.

I cover her with myself. See, if I have no body, I can be any shape I want. I can take up any amount of space I choose. I can be a blanket. Drape myself over her like a down comforter. I can pour myself over her head like water. I can shine on her like light, bathe her with myself until she feels something resembling warmth again. Don't believe it entirely, Mom, I say.

While I was in bed, I thought about journals. I'd never kept one. I'd never given them much thought. Was there a comfort in them? There must be, or people wouldn't bother with them. Still, I wasn't sure I could imagine where such comfort would be hiding.

But if I were to simply remain within my comfort zone, clinging to the way I want to feel—unchallenged—my comfort zone would just keep getting smaller.

anymore. Maybe he was even with someone else after all this time. "You really look worried," Pete said. "Relax. Something came up that he

he'd be proud of me for crying, and I cry harder. How do you stop crying, Simon?

I have trouble with people like that. Like that woman who was just here. They come up to you in a time of grief, and they can't seem to accept that it's grief. They can't just be in that moment of grief with you. They can't just say, 'Yeah, this is some pretty awful stuff.' They have to try to fix it. They have to solve it for you in a couple of sentences, which is ridiculous,

But they suggest something to get you out of what you're feeling, or they find some reason why it's all for the best. I don't understand why people can't just join you in your grief for a moment.

It was actually harder to think about moving forward into whatever unknown situation they had planned for me than to ditch out and go back to what I knew. What I knew was terrible, but at least I knew it, and there's something that's almost a comfort in that.

Leaving home's a cinch. It's the staying, once you've found it, that takes courage.

The smell of loving is a difficult one to describe, but if you think of the times when someone has held you close and made you safe, you will remember how it smells just as well as I do.

Coffee is a kind of magic you can drink.

Don't worry," Marya whispered, kissing his forehead. "My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

The nicest room you've ever lived in doesn't have to be clean and white or full of translucent fresh monkfish slices with pea shoots delicately balanced on top. It can just be the place you were happiest and safest from the wind.

How wonderful is ritual, what comfort in dark times!

Some kinds of hurt almost feel good, you know? Familiar. Like an ugly couch in your parents' house with the springs all bare where your daddy slapped you once for coming home late and now when you sleep on it it's like one of those Indian fellas napping on nails but it makes you feel like you come from somewhere. Hurts like home.

Ettekö te... pelkää sutta?" kysyi Syyskuu, joka salaa uskoi voivansa hyvinkin päästä sellaisesta pelosta, jos susi rakastaisi häntä ja vartioisi häntä eikä sotkisi peittoja mutaan.