Glue That Holds Us Together Quotes

They called you the Glue" "The Glue?" "Yeah. Probably because you're kind of the glue that holds us all together

The people at the center of these stories of power couples mostly choose to see their own motives as selfless. In Elizabeth Edwards’ autobiography Resilience, she wrote of her marriage to John, U.S. senator from North Carolina, ‘We were lovers, life companions, crusaders, side by side, for a vision of what the country could be.’ When she found out he was cheating on her, the crusading together became ‘the glue’ that kept them together. ‘I grabbed hold of it. I needed to,’ Edwards wrote. ‘Although I no longer knew what I could trust between the two of us, I knew I could trust in our work together.’ She wanted ‘an intact family fighting for causes more important than any one of us.

Fear is the glue that holds us together.

We must live in stories. It must be a path we walk, part of the glue that holds us together. Individuals must unite themselves to a body well-formed in love so that we grow up into the logos himself, who is the head. Without that extra step, we will ultimately be dispersed like smoke like wax before the fire.

Love is the magic glue that holds us together!

Our work is making sure that our stories are told and told true. Our work is making sure our artistry is cultivated and expressed, shared and appreciated. Our work is honoring our genius when no one else does. Our work is refusing to surrender, refusing to be silenced, refusing to be rendered simplistically. Our work seems endless, and probably is. But our stories are at the core of our identity, and if they don’t exist, in some critical way we won’t exist, either. We won’t have the glue that holds us together, and gives us perspective on our lives through the lens of history. We have no way to join the Sisterhood.

Isn't this the very glue that holds the human world together? Isn't this why we need other people, to give us the pleasure of knowing we are better than they are? Amazingly, even those who seem to be the worst-off take, in their humiliation, a perverse satisfaction in the fact that no one has it worse than they do. Thus they have still, in some sense, won. Where does this all come from? Asher wonders. Can man not be repaired? If he were a machine, as some now argue, it would suffice to adjust one little lever slightly, or to tighten some small screw, and people would start to take pleasure in treating one another as equals. 

When it came time for me to leave you, it felt to you like I had taken your love away with me. You think your love went with me but it did not. Feel it now. Feel the love you have for me. It is there, isn’t it? It is there inside your heart. It is there because it is YOURS. It is your love for me. Because it is yours, no one can ever take it away from you. It is your love for me and mine for you that hold us together like glue through everything, through good times and bad, through life and through death.

Prayer is the glue that holds all of the pieces of life together in a spiritual whole. It reminds us of who we are and whose we are.

Then again, maybe we’re all a little broken and just trying to find the glue that’ll hold us together.

Connection, not hatred, is the glue that makes us feel we all truly belong.

Love is the only durable glue that can hold us all together in this world. Without it, we will continue to live in a climate of instability.

When memory is disrupted, these essential mental faculties suffer. Thus, memory is the glue that holds our mental life together. Without its unifying force, our consciousness would be broken into as many fragments as there are seconds in the day.

While a deep need in each of us is to know and be known, there is one deeper. One that undergirds everything else. It's the stuff of us. Out of it, we breathe, or not. We wander the earth like shipwrecked castaways, intersecting other island dwellers, and when we meet them, we hold ourselves out in offering and grant them a chance to accept or reject us. With our souls held together with twine and tape and glue, we bounce from rejection to rejection until we find the one who accepts us. This is the thirst of the human soul, and only one thing satisfies it: to be accepted in the knowing.

QUOTES AND THOUGHTS FROM SEEMA & FRIENDS _________________________________________________ On work and career (some paraphrasing involved): _________________________________________________ “Bosses are always jerks. It’s a job requirement.” ———- “Don’t do dumb shit.” ———- Never ever lose sight of priorities. Food always comes first. ———- An itch started in her chest. Go away, she crossly ordered her conscience. It had a habit of popping its head out at the most inconvenient times. The itch became a tickle rising to her nose. Nope, not her conscience. She was going to sneeze. ———- It’s your God-given right as an employee to whine about bosses. _______________________________________________ On romance and families (some paraphrasing involved): _______________________________________________ “Smell is very important,” Gayathri agreed, tone grave. “One of the first things I notice about a man.” ———- “Men—no matter how awful they look—always believe they deserve the hottest girl on the planet.” “What are the rest of us supposed to do?” asked Seema, glumly. Gayathri shrugged. “Act like we are the hottest girl on the planet. Confidence goes a long way.” ———- Seema had never been able to tell where friendly conversation ended and the banter of romance started. Did the delight in his gaze when it landed on her mean something more than casual amiability? What about his hand cupping her cheek to check for fever? The arm he’d wrapped around her shoulders? Was she gonna have to wait until he initiated a lip lock to be certain? Could she plant one on him? What if he ran, screaming in horror? ———- “You just have to look the other way on some things,” Gayathri advised. “Pretence is the glue which holds families together.” ———-

While a deep need in each of us is to know and be known, there is one deeper. One that undergirds everything else. It's the stuff of us. Out of it, we breathe, or not. We wander the earth like shipwrecked castaways, intersecting other island dwellers, and when we meet them, we hold ourselves out in offering and grant them a chance to accept or reject us. With our souls held together with twine and tape and glue, we bounce from rejection to rejection until we find the one who accepts us. This is the thirst of the human soul, and only one thing satisfies it: to be accepted in the knowing. [Murphy Shepherd]

What is Gosetsu Udon, you ask? Meaning "snowy noodles," it is a local specialty from Kutchan, Hokkaido, one of the snowiest places on Earth! The Kutchan region is a big producer of potatoes, and one of the most famous kinds they grow is the extra mealy and starchy Irish Cobbler Potato, also called Danshaku. It's from that potato that Gosetsu Udon Noodles are made! In fact, Gosetsu Udon Noodles are 95 percent starch! First, boil the potatoes, and then peel them... Mash them until they're smooth and fluffy... Then add water, salt and flour to make the dough! "There wasn't enough flour left for us to use. But thankfully... ... there were a few bags of this still available!" Potato starch! That was meant to be used for dusting cutting boards and table surfaces when making handmade noodles! It's not normally used as an ingredient in noodles... but as it's potato starch, that changes when it comes to potato noodles! Acting as the glue holding the noodles together, it also adds that extra starchiness for making the finished noodles that much chewier!

Female sensibility is layers, words, membranes, cotton, cloth, rope, repetition, bodies, wet, opening, closing repetition, lists, lifestories, grids, destroying grids, houses, intimacy, doorways, breasts, vaginas, flow, strong, building, putting together many disparaging elements, repetition, red, ink, black, earth feel colors, the sun, the moon, roots skins, walls, yellow, flowers, streams, puzzles, questions, stuffing, sewing, fluffing, satin, hearts, tearing, tearing, tearing, tying, decorating, baking, feeding, holding, listening, seeing thru the layers, oil, varnish, shellac, jell, paste, glue, seeds, thread, more, not less, repetition, women critics, women, writers, women artists, either nourishing us or eating us up alive, tokenism, curators, universities, tokenism, fear of other women to acknowledge female sensibility, hostile boy artists, accepting men artists, separating the men from the boys, dividing women, piece of pie-ism, money, art, sex, beasts, layers, symphonies, multi-roled, multi-part, stories, narrative, paint/flesh, serious, overwhelming, soft, hard, women working, working women, hanging, dangling, breaking, being fruity, angry, naïve, born again and trying to describe hot white flesh ties.

How much do you know about each other?” was Father Johnson’s final question of the day. Marlboro Man and I looked at each other. We didn’t know everything yet; we couldn’t possibly. We just knew we wanted to be together. Was that not enough? “Well, I’ll speak for myself,” Marlboro Man said. “I feel like I know all I need to know in order to be sure I want to marry Ree.” He rested his hand on my knee, and my heart leapt. “And the rest…I figure we’ll just handle it as we go along.” His quiet confidence calmed me, and all I could think about anyway was how long it would take me to learn how to drive my new lawn mower. I’d never mowed a lawn before in my life. Did Marlboro Man know this? Maybe he should have started me out with a cheaper model. Just then Father Johnson stood up to bid us farewell until our session the following week. I picked up my purse form its spot next to my chair. “Thank you, Father Johnson,” I said, standing up. “Wait just a second,” he said, holding up his hands. “I need to give you a little assignment.” I’d almost made a clean getaway. “I want you both to show me how much you know about each other,” he began. “I want you both to make me a collage.” I looked at him for a moment. “A collage?” I asked. “Like, with magazine pictures and glue?” “That’s exactly right,” Father Johnson replied. “And it doesn’t have to be large or elaborate; just use a piece of legal-size paper as the backdrop. I want you to fill it with pictures that represent all the things you know about the other person. Bring it to your session next week, and we’ll look at them together.” This was an unexpected development.

Love and kindness are the glue that holds us together.

Mom sighed, still holding Cat’s hand. “I depend on you, but I know you can handle it. You’re the glue holding the three of us together.

Love is the only bonding glue that can hold us all together. “Together we are life, making our way through every challenge together. Together we get a little bit stronger. Here is the best place to be. Wherever we are, together.

Integrity is the glue that holds our way of life together. What our young people want to see in their elders is integrity, honesty, truthfulness, and faith. What they hate most of all is hypocrisy and phoniness . . . Let them see us doing what we would like them to do.

Ultimately, this is what I realized: God must be the center of our marriage. And both Jep and I have to love God even more than we love each other. That’s the only way it’s going to work and the only way our marriage is going to survive. God is the glue that holds our marriage together, and I’ve learned that if I seek Him, He answers. He heals all wounds--not in a day, maybe not even in a week--but He cares, and He can put relationships, and people, back together in His own time and in His own way.

America is the great exception to the demographic collapse sweeping the modern world. As an immigrant nation we regenerate ourselves. We bear no baggage from a tragic past. The glue that holds us together is a common concept of justice and opportunity. The United States is what John Courtney Murray called “a propositional nation.” In our benevolence and optimism we assume that all peoples are like us, forgetting that we are or descend from people who chose to abandon the tragic fate of their own nations at the further shore and selected themselves into the American nation. But we have learned that our capacity to influence events in the rest of the world, even in the absence of a competing superpower, is limited, and that the dissipation of our resources can be deadly for us. Our strategic thinking suffers from a failure to take into account the existential problems of other nations. (2011-09-19). How Civilizations Die: (And Why Islam Is Dying Too) . Regnery Publishing

I held her, but that wasn’t enough to hold us together. That’s where the glue came in.

The only difference is I figured it out sooner that Les isn’t a one-guy kind of girl; she needs all of us, whether she wants to admit to that or not. But we need her too. She’s the glue holding us all together, keeping us from losing our shit and falling over the edge.

Jace Matthews broke my heart, but it was Cole Maguire who fixed it. And Lucas? Lucas became the glue that holds us together.” - Thalia

Microbes are the glue that holds it all together – our invisible friends.

The difference is that in the brains of healthy people the two hemispheres can still communicate, so the stories are more reliable. But the impulse is identical. When we ask why something happened or why things are the way they are, we’re acting on a biologically driven, neurologically wired need to understand what’s happening around us. Otherwise, our experiences would seem random, leaving us with no way of knowing how to navigate through life. That’s the Narrator. Its job is to interpret all the raw data of experience and offer it back to us in a way that connects the dots. It provides the explanatory glue that holds it all together.15 And it’s got a mind of its own.

When we explore instead of avoid, we are able to integrate the experience into our story. We’re able to make meaning out of struggle, out of suffering. Meaning is the glue that holds our mind together, allowing us to both respond and recover.

It’s the lovely glue that holds us together, it’s warm, it’s profound … the secret of life, the gift of progeny and the gift of the soul −

Frans de Waal: The way our bodies are. . .influenced by surrounding bodies is one of the mysteries of human existence, but one that provides the glue that holds entire societies together. . . .We occupy nodes within a tight network that connects all of us in both body and mind.