Best 171 quotes in «togetherness quotes» category

Everyone should strive to become a citizen of the world. Boundaries were created by man, not the Creator. There is no such thing as 'them vs. us'. There is only 'we'.

Fantasy love brings a couple together, but only real love can keep them together..

Feeling connected to others gives meaning and purpose to our lives.

For love, as she knew it now, was something without shame and without reserve, the possession of two people who had no barrier between them, and no pride; whatever happened to him would happen to her too, all feeling, all movement, all sensation of body and of mind.

God begets love.

For me, the nomination of Barack Obama as a candidate for president and his inauguration in Washington represents a brief glimpse at the power and potential of peace. There was a radiance about America then, a great coming together of so many people, races, generations, and beliefs. For one brief moment in our history, we found a way to put down our strife against one another. For a few days, weeks, and months all the false reasons we use daily to look down on others, to separate ourselves from one another, fell away, and we opened our hearts to the kind of equality that our founders envisioned but did not have the courage to create. In that moment we decided to face the truth of our oneness with one another, and when we did we experienced the beauty of peace.

Having drunk the dregs of Your Love, I am intoxicated beyond recognition. Now, I only pray for the nearness of You so I may advance in my annihilation.

God is not dead— She has forsaken us. We wipe our angry, hate-filled tears after another shooting, as a man polishes his gun outside a mosque. All those stolen lives—we scream for justice! But God has quietly left our temples and churches. She will not return, for what WE have done is much worse. We have murdered humanity. God has deserted even the devout of us who save our love and compassion for those good and righteous, as we abandon the bigots brimming with hate. Yes, those least deserving of love, but the most in need of it. God’s agony rings in our hearts. She wails for the future shooters. Though we reject them, God greets these cracked and confused creatures— the least deserving of compassion but the most in need of it! We’ve read their spiteful tweets, but when we pass them in classrooms, in trains and markets, we dismiss those seemingly small opportunities for kindness. We don’t know—and how ignorant we are— that every time we ignore them, we sharpen our daggers and stab humanity in its pink raw flesh, not in dark alleyways. No, we do this openly in broad daylight, for hating them shows how loving we are. For condemning them proves how moral we are. But every shooting illumines the failure of our collective duty to love as God loves, to be compassionate as God is compassionate. Your prayers heal, yes, but for God’s sake, let God be. I say: First, resurrect your humanity!

How can you lose me? You’ve owned me from the first moment I saw you.

He had the red serviette tucked into his t-shirt at the neck which made me laugh. He hadn’t done this since our third date when I had told him off for his bad manners.

Gardens and flowers have a way of bringing people together, drawing them from their homes.

I am certain, my love, that poetry was born only after your birth.

I am humbled by the grace of God. I am humbled by the beauty of this universe. Humbled by others' kindness. Humbled by life. I drop down to my knees and give thanks.

Hygge is a quality of presence and an experience of togetherness. It is a feeling of being warm, safe, comforted and sheltered. Hygge is an experience of selfhood and communion with people and places that anchors and affirms us, gives us courage and consolation. To hygge is to invite intimacy and connection. It's a feeling of engagement and relatedness, of belonging to the moment and to each other. Hygge is a sense of abundance and contentment. Hygge is about being not having.

Hopefully, someday we will both realize that despite our sharp differences, you and I have more in common than we think.

I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.

I am not separate from you, my neighbour. If you are my enemy then I am my own enemy. If you are my friend then I am my own friend. Today, I have stripped off my masks and come to know myself. I am Christian. I am Jew. I am Muslim and Hindu. I am European and African. Asian and South American. I am man. I am woman. I am intersexed. I am homosexual. I am heterosexual and asexual. I am abled. I am disabled. I am all these things because you are, and you are all these things because we are. I exist in relation to each of you, this is what gives my being meaning. Why must I label myself like a bottle of wine? When I am the bottle, the wine, and the drunkenness. Why must I label myself at all? When I am the flesh, the light, and the shadow. When I am the voice, the song, and the echo. Tell me why I must label myself when I am the lover, the beloved, and love. I am not separate from you, my neighbour. And you are not separate from humanity. We are all mirrors, reflecting one another in perpetuity.

I am learning from you and you from me, therefore we share gratitude and love because we are one.

If on any given day you don't cry from rejoicing in the beauty of the world, then you have not lived that day.

I love you so much I want to share you with yourself. I know you do not insist that I do, but I love you so much I want to share God with you.

I’m not here to disagree with people or try to change anyone’s mind. I’m just here to accept and love others right where they are – no matter their belief systems or backgrounds.

If you can love one person, you can love everyone.

If I can’t be your love, then let me be a simple brooch so I may rest a while against your chest. If I can’t be your love, then let me be a forgotten coin so I may rest a while against your thigh. If I can’t be your love, then let me be an unlit cigarette so I may rest a while in between your lips. If I can’t be your love, then let me at least remain in these words so I may rest a while in your thoughts.

I'm parodying a powerful quote from Rob Hill Sr. A quote that, in the crazy ass world of right now, sho'nuff screams to me; because my goal, too, was to build a life I don't need a vacation from. Through tears, I'm scratching this one off my bucket list.

I promise you that I will not call. I have called you enough, and woken you enough times, in the years when we were together and in the years since then. But there are nights now in this strange, flat and forsaken place when those sad echoes and dim feelings come to me slightly more intensely than before. They are like whispers, or trapped whimpering sounds.

In united families, they might sleep with half filled stomach but no one sleeps with empty stomach.

I see your pain as clearly as I feel my own. I will share your burden so you feel it less. Do not hate this world. Do not hate these people. I will share my hope so you feel it more. I want you to see our love as clearly as I feel yours.

In your name, the family name is at last because it's the family name that lasts.

It's funny to think that Christmas — a time known for its joyful togetherness — can be the loneliest time of the year for some.

I stare at the stars... And even though there are so many and they look so close together, I know they are light years apart. The glitter in the sky looks as if I could scoop it all up in my hands and let the stars swirl and touch one another, but they are so distant, so very far apart, that they cannot feel the warmth of each other, even though they are made of burning. This is the secret of the stars, I tell myself. In the end, we are alone. No matter how close you seem, no one else can touch you.

I turned to him and he reached for my hand. It would have been easier to walk away. But the wind still blew around us and the house still stood.

It should never be ME against the world but WE against the world.

It is possible in a city street neighborhood to know all kinds of people without unwelcome entanglements, without boredom, necessity for excuses, explanations, fears of giving offense, embarrassments respecting impositions or commitments, and all such paraphernalia of obligations which can accompany less limited relationships. It is possible to be on excellent sidewalk terms with people who are very different from oneself, and even, as time passes, on familiar public terms with them. Such relationships can, and do, endure for many years, for decades; they could never have formed without that line, much less endured. The form precisely because they are by-the-way to people’s normal public sorties. ‘Togetherness’ is a fittingly nauseating name for an old ideal in planning theory. This ideal is that if anything is shared among people, much should be shared. ‘Togetherness,’ apparently a spiritual resource of the new suburbs, works destructively in cities. The requirement that much shall be shared drives city people apart. When an area of a city lacks a sidewalk life, the people of the place must enlarge their private lives is they are to have anything approaching equivalent contact with their neighbors. They must settle for some form of ‘togetherness,’ in which more is shared with one another than in the life of the sidewalks, or else they must settle for lack of contact. Inevitably the outcome is one or the other; it has to be, and either has distressing results. In the case of the first outcome, where people do share much, they become exceedingly choosy as to who their neighbors are, or with whom they associate at all. They have to become so.

I've written you sixty-seven love poems. Here’s another one for you. But really, for me. These poems are the candles that I light with the fire you have ignited in me. I place this candle here and another there so even if the stars have argued with the moon and are sulking away in a corner, you can still find your way to me. Sixty-eight poems now. What does the future hold for us? Joy? Disappointment? Gentle caresses? And subtle neglect? I hope the good is more than the bad. Much more. For what is the point of love if by lighting these candles our own flame loses its brightness? I know the good is more than the bad. Much more. I cannot wait to write you sixty-nine.

I want you, exactly the way you are today, the way you'll be tomorrow, and fifty years from now. And I want you to want me enough to deal with whatever happens. I can't promise you'll be okay. But without you I will never be okay. And I know that without me you will never be okay either.

Love, friendship -- with her it had never been two different things. Him and her -- they had never been different either. If they had, all the destruction around them would have separated them. But it hadn't.

Love is our most basic human value and also our highest potential.

Lovers of the world unite; you have nothing to lose but your chains.

Loving you, I understood myself.

May we always be burdened with thinking of the suffering of others, for that is what it means to be human.

Men and women have different dreams.' She lifted her head, looked at him and touched his face. 'And when you put them together, you have a life.' she kissed his mouth

I used to be lost in us. Blurred were the lines that separated us. But now, I see our togetherness in our separateness. I see the you in me and the me in you. We are two independent beings who complement one another like photographs that are beautiful on their own but are enhanced when juxtaposed, creating an altogether new photograph.

Love 'feels' right in every language.

Love is God of All.

Love is just Love. It's self sustainable. Togetherness however needs trust, loyalty and respect. Slack in one and it turns to separation. But the bitter fact is love, love still remains.

Love isn’t blind. Maybe we are all born blind and love finally gives us sight.

Love, to empaths, isn’t just a shallow experience based on looks, social status or great sex. Instead, love is something that comes from the very heart and soul of what an empath is. Love is intense passion, unconditional devotion, and absolute fierce vulnerability.

Name and form are simply illusions of separation. Love doesn’t make us blind; rather, it erases the illusions so we can see clearly.

Make no mistake about it. We are born blind, deaf, and mute. It is neither these eyes that give us sight, nor these ears that give us sound. It is not even these lips that give us voice. It is only love. Love makes us seek beauty and truth. Love yearns to connect. To experience. To understand. So close your eyes at once. Don’t utter a word. Perk up your ears and listen to that silent sound inside you where all this is found.

Most people made comments on how I was the strongest woman they knew. That was before the title wave of disaster hit my charmed life.