Ma's still nodding. "You're the one who matters, though. Just you." I shake my head till it's wobbling because there's no just me.
Emma DonoghueRead
When I tell her what I’m thinking and she tells me what she’s thinking, our each ideas jumping into the other’s head, like coulouring blue crayon on top of yellow that makes green.
Interpretation
Communication and sharing thoughts in a relationship can create a beautiful blend of ideas.
This quote by Emma Donoghue illustrates the power of open communication in a relationship. When both individuals express their thoughts and ideas, they create a unique fusion, much like mixing colors, where the combination results in something entirely new and enriched, reflecting the beauty of shared understanding and emotional connection.
In practice
This quote can be shared during a couples' therapy session to emphasize the importance of expressing thoughts.
Ma's still nodding. "You're the one who matters, though. Just you." I shake my head till it's wobbling because there's no just me.
Ah yes, the paradox of publicity is that even as we do it, we know it's killing off the chance of another reader happening across our book in the ideal state of innocence.
At the door, there was one of those moment when two people realize that they like each other more than they know each other. This is nicer than the opposite situation, but more awkward. You try to remember the protocol for touching. You hate to gush, or presume to much, yet you are unwilling to let the moment pass without without some gesture
You cannot predict literary success; the only way you can possibly aim for it is to do your thing and do it well.
Books are the air I breathe, so I don't notice the seasons.
Writing stories is my way of scratching that itch: my escape from the claustrophobia of individuality. It lets me, at least for a while, live more than one life, walk more than one path. Reading, of course, can do the same.
The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart and differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home together and to rest in her bosom.
Acquaintance. A person whom we know well enough to borrow from, but not well enough to lend to.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
In communities of color, such as Ferguson, it often feels like the police are protecting the white community from us instead of protecting our communities from the criminal element.
I'm always wondering if he'll return. Sometimes I pray that he doesn't. And sometimes I hope he will. I wish on falling stars and eyelashes. Absence isn't solid the way death is. It's fluid, like language. And it hurts so much...so, so much.
I can't tell you how scary it can be walking onto a movie and suddenly joining this family - it's like going to somebody else's Christmas dinner; everyone knows everyone and you're not quite sure what you're supposed to sit.
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