Best 223 quotes in «companionship quotes» category

Having someone wonder where you are when you don't come home at night is a very old human need.

He dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of living each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.

He is not my focus," Diana told writer Rodney Tyler of Arne. "He’s my husband, my companion, my lover, my confidant. But not my focus. I wasn’t lost, then found by Arne. I was single and met a wonderful man and we enjoyed each other’s company and enjoyed our times together. So it was not lost and found. That’s crap. I have never been lost.

He (Nixon) needed someone with him so he could be alone.

...he couldn't help but feel he was a little too young to consider forgoing sex for the rest of his life for the sake of companionship.

HE REMEMBERS NOW WITH SOMETHING LIKE A FULL-BODY FLUSH, HE REMEMBERS WHAT IT MEANS TO SHARE SOMETHING WITH SOMEONE, THE PARTICULAR ALCHEMY THAT CAN LIGHT THINGS UP.

His act was rather that of a harmless lunatic than an enemy. We were not so new to the country as not to know that the solitary life of many a plainsman had a tendency to develop eccentricities of conduct and character not always easily distinguishable from mental aberration. A man is like a tree: in a forest of his fellows he will grow as straight as his generic and individual nature permits; alone, in the open, he yields to the deforming stresses and tortions that environ him.

His mind drifted back to times past. He missed the companionship of his old pack. He had grown up in the pack and knew each wolf by sight and smell. They had played and hunted, bred and cared for the young, and fought and died together. His bonds to the other wolves had been very close – particularly his mate. She had been the strongest and the swiftest female. She had reared their young well and had always yelped and whined with affection after he returned from the hunt. He remembered the comfort he had felt on so many starry nights, lying beside her with his head resting upon her neck in a sign of affection. However, she was gone now, and he could not bring her back. The two-legged ones had seen to that.

However, create a limit for your communications and interactions with the opposite sex and respect that limit, else you tear away your delicate moral fabrics.

Humankind has turned to world into a cruel and inhospitable place. The thing that makes it all bearable is the potential for loving companionship.

Here's what I think. We all want someone to build a fort with. We want somebody to swap crayons with and play hide-and-seek with and live out imaginary stories with. We start out getting that from our family. Then we get it from our friends. And then, for whatever reasons, we get it in our heads that we need to get that feeling- that intimacy- from a single someone else. We call if growing up. But really, when you take sex out of it, what we want is a companion. And we make that so damn hard to find.

He was not her sole companion. She had her demons, too. You can't run from them, as Lexi discovered. Changing cities doesn't help either; you carry them along inside you. You just wake up one day, fed up, and decide to snuggle with them instead. You invite them along as you go about your day, balancing them on your shoulder as you would a toddler, but with very strict conditions: You will not set fire to my hair. You will not take candy from strangers. You will not tie me up in chains while I sleep. You will behave. And Lexi's demons, allowed to come close, sat on her shoulder. They waved to the angels perched on her other shoulder and struck up a conversation with Lexi. 'What's that noise?' her demons asked, sidling close to her ear. 'Oh, that?' Lexi massaged her temples. 'It's the air whistling through the hole in my heart.' 'You're afraid,' they taunted. 'I am,' she admitted. 'Afraid of the sky falling. Afraid of the tight-rope snapping. Afraid I can't dance well enough on the edge. Afraid there are no hands to steady my body. Afraid of hands that wish to cage my heart.' 'Coward,' the demons goaded.

I am beginning to remember what it means to need things. Laughter. Companionship. Love. " He leant forward and pressed his forehead to mine. "And I need you, Merit.

I cannot stand the company of men. They flatter or they judge. I can stand neither of the two.

I froze in place, bracing myself for the coming panic attack. Ben had said he was falling for me. That sounded serious, and whenever past relationships had approached “serious,” I had promptly freaked out. I sat in trepidation, waiting for the heart palpitations, the shallow breathing, the sweaty palms, and worst of all, the feeling of dread. But by some miracle, none of those things came. Instead, in that moment with Ben, I fell into a great calm. I felt comforted and warmed, like I was sitting by a campfire on a cold night. Ben’s words called to my heart, and instead of responding with terror, it opened up like a fist uncurling, as though it had been waiting twenty-six years just to hear his voice.

I could wish nothing better for each of you, my dear young friends, than love---the companionship of one dearer than any friend; someone to be deliriously excited over and to be happy with; someone to stir within you the very best that is there; someone to grow more appreciative of, more tender toward, more grateful for, more a part of as one year becomes another and life moves toward eternity. May the Lord answer your prayers with love, the kind that will always express itself in concern not for self but for your beloved companion" ("And the Greatest of these is Love," BYU Devotional, February 14, 1978).

If your best friends do not read books, they reads you.

If your best friends do not read books, they read you.

If your spouse wants to cheat on you, he or she will. This world is a haven of opportunities. But no matter what, in any relationship, one must never doubt the spouse

I have to believe it’s right to be a warm voice, a companion if I can be, as soon as ever I find a friend.

I like something warm under the covers. Books are cold comfort.

If what you seek is true and genuine companionship, then give true and genuine companionship in order to create a vibrational magnet for that what you are seeking.

If you want to be a leader, don't stand on the toes of dwarfs. Mount the shoulders of giants and you will see further.

I'm asked "who do you say I Am" I say you are as am I, for what can come in between it? It's a perfect conquest of "I" that requires perfect knowledge of He which is in the middle of self. Smooth riddles as I sound the strings of a fiddle laid close to a stream of water as I drift away into constellation; A view out of sight within. As I close my eyes, I see what it is to be seen beyond the mediocre of superficial meditation. It's a deep sense of revelation that goes beyond the sense, give ear as I try to make sense of it.

I'm not sure I ever want to get married. I'm neither messing around while waiting nor looking for some "real thing." What I want is much more complicated. I want somebody I can talk to about books, who would be my friend, and why couldn't we have sex as well if we wanted to? (And used contraception.) I'm not looking for romance. Lord Peter and Harriet would seem a pretty good model to me.

In some rare cases, a friendship between two people benefits both of them, and what’s more, in some rarer cases, it benefits both of them equally.

In the early days of marriage, joy precedes the act. Tragically, as the years go by joy can be severed from the act until finally, the act itself is no more. This ought not to be. Over time it is the companionship that brings joy, and service is the natural outworking of the joy of commitment. Failure to act kills it.

I prefer solitude to companions, since there are so few men who are trustworthy, and almost none truly learned. I do not say this because I demand scholarship in all men -- although the sum total of men's learning is small enough; but I question whether we should allow anyone to waste our time. The wasting of time is an abomination.

It was possible for Tilo and Musa to have this strange conversation about a third loved one, because they were concurrently sweethearts and ex-sweethearts, lovers and ex-lovers, siblings and ex-siblings, classmates and ex-classmates. Because they trusted each other so peculiarly that they knew, even if they were hurt by it, that whoever it was that the other person loved had to be worth loving. In matters of the heart, they had a virtual forest of safety nets.

I use your love as a man burns a candle, burns it away, to light his steps.

In life, you shall meet a person who is so much like you. You will have so much love and respect that there isn't anything you wouldn't do for them. Just to know that you met a person and associated with them will make you feel so much better. Not everyone is lucky to be able to spend their lives loving that perfect person, some might just disappear but you should have the courage to live with it. One day you shall meet your perfect match, someone you can love, someone you can look upto, someone you can adore, someone who is just perfect for you. Do not let that special person exit your life, tell them how special they are and how much you love them. Everyone deserves to be with the person they want to be with.

I put my hands upon these books, remembering those nights of silence when our forearms had touched and we had read until sleep took us, the pages mixed between limbs and sheets.

It is often the moments of silence that strengthen the friendship between two people. When friendship is bound by companionship… intertwined with love, secured by mutual understanding…

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined Half of the night with our old friend Who’d showed us in the end To a bed I reached in one drunk stride. Already I lay snug, And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side. I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug, Suddenly, from behind, In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed: Your instep to my heel, My shoulder-blades against your chest. It was not sex, but I could feel The whole strength of your body set, Or braced, to mine, And locking me to you As if we were still twenty-two When our grand passion had not yet Become familial. My quick sleep had deleted all Of intervening time and place. I only knew The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.

I was moving around with my imperfect, broken pieces until you came across and stitched my flaws with your words.

I want someone to sit beside after the day's pursuit and all its anguish, after its listening, and its waitings, and its suspicions. After quarrelling and reconciliation I need privacy - to be alone with you, to set this hubbub in order. For I am as neat as a cat in my habits.

I want a marriage of companions—one of shared lives and shared poems,' he murmured. 'If we were husband and wife, we would collect books, read, and drink tea together. As I told you before, I'd want you for what's in here.' Again he pointed to my heart, but I felt it in a place far lower in my body.

I was so tired. I just wanted to curl up with someone, anyone, even him, and sleep until work on Monday. I wanted to feel someone’s, anyone’s, hands on me, even if it was in that way I hate, the fingers all over my face and jaw.

I was with you at the beginning of your journey. It is right that I should follow you to its end.

I wonder if she feels from me the thing I feel about her when I touch her. Not in sex, which he understood now was a different thing from everything else. I just mean when I touch her skin before we sleep and I understand all the things beneath it. Animals can't have that. They can't build their loved ones that way and feel right through their skin. That's never worn off, whatever else. He looked a where she slept. I can't imagine living without that.

Loneliness tortures many if not most of the elderly more intensely and more frequently than it torments many if not most of us who will never be or have not yet been pushed or pulled into old age.

Loneliness is really a wonderful companion that can show us so much about ourselves and others.

Looking back few friends had we but I've got him and he's got me. And when the golden minute comes when we no longer wake to smell the river where the wild swans sailed the orchard where the blossoms fell, we'll smile a little thinkin' of that. Me in my shirt-tails, him with his whiskers me and the cat.

Love is a feeling that must be felt from the heart and seen through inner beauty. Only if this was known to the youth, many a marriages would have blossomed with age and cherished through decades. Just like a plant that needs the sun, water and more time to grow into a beautiful tree with lovely leaves and flowers, love needs time to be nurtured over time, built on a strong foundation of friendship, trust and honesty. When this foundation is built and combined with the feeling that tickles you from within, that is when love actually happens, the rest is all infatuation, attraction or even lust.

Love moves in sync with the cadence of forgiveness, sings in tune with the melody of acceptance, and dances in rhythm with the music of companionship.

Maybe some people were destined to be alone. But, I reminded myself, you're never alone if you read.

My flute, M. Poirot, is my oldest companion. When everything else fails, music remains.

Love fuels a happy soul.

Miss Selina, you have over the past minutes—as in the past months, and indeed, in all the years of your association with him—demonstrated an understanding of Master Bruce, his aspirations, his desires and his demons, that would be the envy of his closest colleagues, who believe they know him better than anybody. It is quite impossible to credit your fear that you ‘will not be good at this,’ for there is clearly no one in his life better suited to comfort him in tragedy, rejoice with him in triumph, and keep him from being alone in the days and nights in between. If he should ‘give up hope,’ I have no doubt you would manage the situation with the same sublime felinity you have used to such advantage in the past. Now drink your tea, young woman, and the next time you enjoy, or even sniff, this particular brew, I dare say you will understand how it helps.

Most people give up finding their soul mate, and settle down to just having a flesh mate.