#companions

Books have become our dearest companions, yielding exquisite delights and inspiring lofty aims. ↗

— George Henry Lewes

#become #books #companions #dearest #delights

I wanted only a familiar voice, someone who knew me. Not some earlier, larval version of myself. . . ↗

— Jennifer Haigh

#companionship #family #growing-up #secrets #sisters

...we can say we love each other if my life is better because you're in it and your life is better because I'm in it. ↗

— Chris Crutcher

#companionship #couples #friendship #love #friendship

Anyone who imagines they can work alone winds up surrounded by nothing but rivals, without companions. The fact is, no one ascends alone. ↗

— Lance Armstrong

#companionship #competition #cooperation #success #imagination

The King once said to me, 'Harold, you stand above all other men.' I said, 'No, Sire. I want nothing more than to stand shoulder to shoulder with my men. I am nothing without them. ↗

— Elizabeth Alder

#comradeship #friendship #people #friendship

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse - and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness - And Wilderness is Paradise enow. ↗

— Omar Khayyám

#companionship #life #love #paradise #poetry

If his voice hasn't been the melody of my life, it's been the bass line, so subtle you don't notice it until it's missing. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#companionship #life

And as ridiculous as it may sound, sometimes all any of us needs in life is for someone to hold our hand and walk next to us. ↗

— James Frey

#fellowship #togetherness #life

A career is wonderful, but you can't curl up with it on a cold night ↗

— Marilyn Monroe

#companionship #wonder

Man was born for society. However little He may be attached to the World, He never can wholly forget it, or bear to be wholly forgotten by it. Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become an Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock. While Hate inflames his bosom, possibly He may feel contented with his situation: But when his passions begin to cool; when Time has mellowed his sorrows, and healed those wounds which He bore with him to his solitude, think you that Content becomes his Companion? Ah! no, Rosario. No longer sustained by the violence of his passions, He feels all the monotony of his way of living, and his heart becomes the prey of Ennui and weariness. He looks round, and finds himself alone in the Universe: The love of society revives in his bosom, and He pants to return to that world which He has abandoned. Nature loses all her charms in his eyes: No one is near him to point out her beauties, or share in his admiration of her excellence and variety. Propped upon the fragment of some Rock, He gazes upon the tumbling waterfall with a vacant eye, He views without emotion the glory of the setting Sun. Slowly He returns to his Cell at Evening, for no one there is anxious for his arrival; He has no comfort in his solitary unsavoury meal: He throws himself upon his couch of Moss despondent and dissatisfied, and wakes only to pass a day as joyless, as monotonous as the former. ↗

— Matthew Gregory Lewis

#contentment #discontentment #hermit #hermits #hopelessness