John Masefield Quotes

I am learning to live close to the lives of my friends without ever seeing them. No miles of any measurement can separate your soul from mine.

Your friends are really an extension of your vision of the world. It's kind of a physical manifestation of how you feel. Like your soul.

There is a side of friendship that develops better and stronger by correspondence than contact.... The absence of the flesh in writing perhaps brings souls nearer.

I want my friend to miss me as long as I miss him.

Even though my grandparents live overseas and are so far away and we talk as much as we can, we don't see each other that often.

With an ocean between you and your European friends, you have to keep them in your heart.

I was gutted to leave my boyfriend at home when I started my tour, but taking my pillow was like taking a little bit of him with me.

Relationships never end, because they're of the mind; only bodies can separate. When you're missing someone, know it just means that on a soul level they've come to visit.

What is love? two souls and one flesh; friendship? two bodies and one soul.

There must be something between us, even if it's only an ocean.

...whether he stayed or left, whether they walked the same path or not. They could live on opposite sides of the world, and she would still be his.

The fact that you touched somebody's soul or made them laugh-that's a wonderful thing.

and i don't just mean that they change you. a lot of people can change you - the first kid who called you a name, the first teacher who said you were smart, the first person who crowned you best friend. it's the change you remember, the firsts and what they meant, not really the people......i'm talking about the ones who, for whatever reason, are as much a part of you has your own soul. their place in your heart is tender; a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business.

That's what true love should be like-the person should be part of your soul and you should know what they're feeling all the time.

Dear John, tell me everything. Write it all down, that way, we’ll be with each other all the time, even if we’re not with each other at all.

With you a part of me hath passed away; For in the peopled forest of my mind A tree made leafless by this wintry wind Shall never don again its green array. Chapel and fireside, country road and bay, Have something of their friendliness resigned; Another, if I would, I could not find, And I am grown much older in a day. But yet I treasure in my memory Your gift of charity, and young hearts ease, And the dear honour of your amity; For these once mine, my life is rich with these. And I scarce know which part may greater be,-- What I keep of you, or you rob from me.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder.

If a book comes from the heart, it will contrive to reach other hearts; all art and author-craft are of small amount to that.

People will not lend you a hand until you first touch their hearts.

I want to talk to her. I want to have lunch with her. I want her to give me a book she just read and loved. She is my phantom limb, and I just can’t believe I’m here without her.”- on losing her best friend

I feel the urge, familiar now, to wrench myself from my body and speak directly into her mind. It is the same urge, I realize, that makes me want to kiss her every time I see her, because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating. Our fingers, loosely woven a moment ago, now clutch together, her palm tacky with moisture, mine rough in places where I have grabbed too many handles on too many moving trains. Now she looks pale and small, but her eyes make me think of wide-open skies that I have never actually seen, only dreamed of.

Finally he closed the distance between us and kissed me - a sweet, gentle kiss that held within it every single one of the thousand days I'd loved him as my everything, long after I'd begun to love him as a friend.

I carry thoughts of you like my own personal constellation. How far away you are, my dearest friend, but no farther than those fixed stars in my soul.

I love when I reach Marcus on the phone and as he says hello, I can hear the music he's listening to in the background. That music is the sound of him without me. How he surrounds himself when I'm not there, which is almost all the time.

Although from you I far must roam, do not be broken hearted. We two, who in the souls are one, are never truly parted.