Quotes About Comfort

There is nothing more delightful in life than a feather bed and an open fire—except a feather bed with a warm and tender lover in it.

Sassenach," he said against my shoulder, a moment later. Mm?" Who in God's name is John Wayne?" You are," I said. "Go to sleep. I really needed that laugh to break the tears.

His flesh seemed to melt comfortably into Roger's own, his trust so complete that it was not necessary even to maintain the boundaries of his body—Daddy would do that.

turned me away from him and fitted himself to my back so we lay nested together.

We stood wrapped in each other's arms, taking comfort from our family below, yearning for the others we might never see again, at once at home and homeless, balanced on a knife edge of danger and uncertainty. But together.

solitude was in its own way a balm for loneliness.

It was in a way a comforting idea; if there was all the time in the world, then the happening of a given moment became less important. I could see, perhaps, how one could draw back a little, seek some respite in the contemplation of an endless Being, whatever one conceived its nature to be.

In older, more primitive times (like these? asked another part of my mind), it was an act of trust to sleep in the presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies.

Then I laid my head upon his chest and gave my dreams up to his keeping.

It was what you did when someone died; turned toward God and at least acknowledge the fact.

Mm, you're nice to croodle wi', he murmured, doing what I assumed was croodling.

I think sometimes the dead cherish us, as we do them

It was in kindness that the thought came to me now, whether it was truly spoken, or only called forth from my exhausted memory for what comfort the words might hold. Everyone makes choices, and no one knows what may be the end of any of them. If my own was to blame for many things, it was not to blame for everything. Nor was harm all that had come of it.

It was an act of trust to sleep in de presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies

He smelt strongly of woodsmoke, blood, and unwashed male, but the night chill bit through my thin dress and I was happy enough to lean back against him.

Don't be afraid,' he whispered into my hair. 'There's the two of us now.

Had it been this way where she came from? Had fires and food held back a jungle darkness, kept away leopards instead of bears? Had light and company given comfort, and the illusion of safety? For illusion it had surely been—fire was no protection against men, or the darkness that had overtaken her. I had no words to ask.

she keeps takin' me in—so I suppose she must be home.

I drew a deep breath, trying to think of something to say, then pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to him. Are you breathing, Ian? His mouth twitched a little. Aye, I htink so. That's all you have to do, for now.

it was an act of trust to sleep in the presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies.

Would he ever come back? He wondered. The water filled his ears with its own rush, and he was comforted by the realization that, in fact, he never left.

I felt at once horribly vulnerable and yet completely safe.

Daddy, Daddy Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â "I'm here," he whispered into Jem's hair, the tears running down his own face. "I'm here, I'm here. Don't be afraid." Jem took a shuddering breath

Actually, it wasn't bad," Claire said, surprisingly. "Mullein leaves are really very nice; quite as good as two-ply bathroom tissue. And in the winter or indoors, it was usually a bit of damp rag; not very sanitary, but comfortable enough.