Quotes About Connection

Kiss her until she be wearied out,' " Denys repeated. "That's the best bit, isn't it, and Berkeley does it so well.

We held on to each other and looked out at the sea. It was impossibly large and full of beauty and danger in equal parts—and we wanted it all.

Some nights I would try to close the distance and make love to Jock.

then, hardly daring to breathe, lowered myself onto him. But it was too late. Before I had even begun to move, he softened inside me. I tried to kiss him, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

I've been looking for you everywhere," he said, taking my arm. Without

How personal this life was, and how every time we grazed against one another even for a moment, we weren't the same afterward.

And just when the song reached its highest pitch, I looked across the blazing circle and saw Kibii. We had always

Perhaps I will begin by walking where he has walked." Arap

We stood there, locked and lovely as statues in a garden.

I love you, Tatie. You're what's best about me.

and yet just now, in my cold cot, I felt strangely close to him. It was his life I was reaching for in coming here, and if I couldn't have my father back, exactly, maybe not ever, I could have the rightness of looking in the same direction, of stepping into his shadow with my own. I didn't know a thing about marriage or men—that had been proven well enough. But I did know horses. For the first time in a long time, I was exactly where I should be.

After a year of fumbling and embarrassing encounters with Jock, I was finally learning what sex was, and that I liked it. Boy would come into my cottage at night and wake me by roughly pressing against me, his hands everywhere before I was fully conscious.

we never survive them, or anyone we love. Not in the

Arap Ruta indeed. I had known him since he wasn't

I had the pure sense that I couldn't ever truly lose the past, or forget what any of it had meant.

People belong to each other only as long as they both believe. He's stopped believing.

We slept as much as we wanted, made love twice a day, read and wrote letters and played cards.

Yes. Big as the moon over Gotham City. And every psychopath, sociopath, sadist, alcoholic, narcissist piece of shit anywhere can see it and comes running. And when the two find each other, they click. They recognize each other on some deep level. It's like they speak two variations of the same language.

How are you?" she asks. The world's most innocuous question, impossible to answer.

The sensitive readers, they have a certain look. You can al. most smell it on them, that they need books to feel okay.

My mother in that awful parking lot, dead on Christmas Day. Jenny's murder and Eden's cancer. Hap's disappearance. My daughter's accident. The dark abyss of my work and how it connects in an awful and yawning way to everything else.

When his weight was on me fully, and I could feel every bump and contour of the roof against my shoulders and hips through the blankets, there were moments of pure crushing happiness I knew I'd never forget. It was as if we'd pressed ourselves together until his bones passed through mine and we were the same person, ever so briefly.

Family life worked most clearly for us when we were alone, at the end of the day, reconnecting and shoring each other up.

If I were any kind of water," Eden said, staring out and out, "I'd want to be this ocean." You already are, I wanted to tell her. You're everything I can see.