Love Next Door Quotes & Sayings

Whilst ladies persist in maintaining the strictly defensive condition, men must naturally, as it were, take the oppposite line, that of attack; otherwise, if both parties held aloof, there would be no more marriages; and the two hosts would die in their respective inaction, without ever coming to a battle. Thus it is evident that as the ladies will not, the men must take the offensive ... Is it not time that the ladies should take an innings? Let us widowers and bachelors form an association to declare that for the next hundred years we will make love no longer. Let the young women come and make love to us; let them write us verses; let them ask us to dance, get us ices and cups of tea, and help us on with our cloaks at the hall-door; and if they are eligible, we may perhaps be induced to yield and say, 'La, Miss Hopkins - I really never - I am so agitated - Ask papa! — William Makepeace Thackeray

My prayer for you is that you may grow in the likeness of Christ, being real carriers of God's love and that you really bring his presence, first, into your own family, then, to the next door neighbor, the street you we live in, the town we live in, the country we live, then only, in the whole world, that living example of God's presence. — Mother Teresa

The International Idea,
The largest and the clearest,
Is welding all the nations now,
Except the one that's nearest.

This compromise has long been known,
This scheme of partial pardons,
In ethical societies
And small suburban gardens -

The villas and the chapels where
I learned with little labour
The way to love my fellow-man
And to hate my next-door neighbor. — G.K. Chesterton

Do you think you love that fellow?"
"I don't know." She closed her eyes, but the tears overflowed nevertheless. "All I know is that he opened a door into a whole new world I never even knew existed. I've stepped through that door, and I cant return.
( ... )
Its like being blind from birth and then one day suddenly being able to see. And not just see, but to witness the sun rising in all her glory across the azure sky. The dusky lavenders and blues lightening to pinks and reds, spreading across the horizon until the entire earth is lit. Until one has to blink and fall to ones knees in awe at the light.
( ... )
Even if one were to be made blind again in the next instant, one would ever after remember and know what was missed. What could be. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Forget it." She turned to the closed door of the bathroom. "Forget I said anything. I take it back." Just as she pulled the door open, he was behind her, slamming it shut.
With one hand planted in front of her face, Max said next to her ear, "You can't take it back now."
"Yes, I can."
"No." He leaned his big body into her and shoved her against the door. "I heard you." His hot breath brushed her temple. "You love me Lola. I won't let you take it back. You can't ever take it back. — Rachel Gibson

I love that name. A country named Chad. Sounds like somebody who lived next door to the Brady Bunch. But if Chad actually lived next door to the Bradys, Greg would be roasting over a slow fire and Marcia would be standing naked on an auction block, because Chad is one of the hungriest, craziest, most desperate places on the planet. — Gary Brecher

In that latitude the temperature flirted with a hundred degrees for a few of the dog days, but to a child it can hardly ever be too hot. I liked the sun licking the backs of my legs, and the sweat between my shoulder blades, and the violet evenings, with ice cream and fireflies, wherein the long day slowly cooled. I liked the ants piling up dirt like coffee grounds between the bricks of our front walk, and the milkweed spittle in the vacant lot next door. I liked the freedom of shorts, sneakers, and striped T-shirt, with freckles and a short hot-weather haircut.
We love easily in summer, perhaps, because we love our summer selves. — John Updike

So why did he do it?"
Cricket rakes a hand through his hair. "For the same reason everyone makes mistake. He fell in love. — Stephanie Perkins

Speak of the daimon: Leo burst through the door next to the pantry, holding a loft a wheel of cheese like a victor's laurel crown.
"BEHOLD THE CHEDDAR!" he announced. "ALL HAIL THE CHEESE CONQUERORS!"
Josephine, chuckling good-naturedly, lumbered in behind him with a metal pail. "The cows seemed to like Leo."
"Hey, abuelita," Leo said. "All da cows love Leo." He grinned at me. "And these cows are red man. Like... bright red."
That definitely made me want to weep. Red cows were my favourite. For centuries I had a herd of sacred scarlet cattle before cow-collecting went out of fashion. — Rick Riordan

The main problem with mass media is that it makes it impossible to fall in love without any acumen of normalcy. There is no "normal," because everyone is being twisted by the same sources simultaneously. You can't compare your relationship with the playful couple who lives next door because they're probably modeling themselves after Chandler Bing and Monica Geller. — Chuck Klosterman

He tried to escape he could not
Cut the binding cord of human love [ ... ]
Sweet venom
His arrivals were swift
And his departures sudden
I couldn't understand how
He lifted the shower door
Right off its hinges [ ... ]
Love you he coughed and kissed me
See you next week he was out
The door like a thousand other times [ ... ]
Most reckless of
reckless angels — Edward Hirsch

I left the bed as she had left it, unmade and rumpled, coverlets awry, so that her body's print might rest still warm beside my own.
Until the next day I did not go to bathe, I wore no clothes and did not dress my hair, for fear I might erase some sweet caress.
That morning I did not eat, nor yet at dusk, and put no rouge nor powder on my lips, so that her kiss might cling a little longer.
I left the shutters closed, and did not open the door, for fear the memory of the night before might vanish with the wind. — Pierre Louis

Great pals we've always been. In fact there was a time when I had an idea I was in love with Cynthia. However, it blew over. A dashed pretty and lively and attractive girl, mind you, but full of ideals and all that. I may be wronging her, but I have an idea that she's the sort of girl who would want a fellow to carve out a career and what not. I know I've heard her speak favourably of Napoleon. So what with one thing and another the jolly old frenzy sort of petered out, and now we're just pals. I think she's a topper, and she thinks me next door to a looney, so everything's nice and matey. — P.G. Wodehouse

I love the gothic literature. It always has such great stories with characters bigger than life and the stakes are always high. And because there's always a wolf at the door, the emotions are high; the romance, the sexuality, friendships, and relationships. You don't know if the guy kissing you one minute is going to bite you the next. This heightens all of the sensibilities and emotions, and therefore, it sings to me. And that's where the music comes from. — Frank Wildhorn

Two oceans away, a boy is falling in love.
Next door, another boy i just falling.
One is laughing, one is crying -
both are screaming. — Darshana Suresh

I blame what happened next on the door. The one right across the hall from me, a mere three feet away. I love doors. All of them, without exception. Doors lead to things and I've never met one I haven't wanted to open. All the same, if that door hadn't been so old and decorative, so decidedly closed, if a thread of light hadn't positioned itself with such wretched temptation across its middle, highlighting the keyhole and its intriguing key, perhaps I might have stood a chance; remained twiddling my thumbs until Percy came to collect me. But it was and I didn't; I maintain that I simply couldn't. Sometimes, you can tell just by looking at a door there's something interesting behind it. — Kate Morton

When you're a child, your best friend in the world is the kid who lives next door. It doesn't occur to you then that this is a matter of arbitrary circumstance. When you grow up you like to imagine that your friendships have a more substantial basis - common interests, like-mindedness, some genuine affinity. It's always a sad revelation that when a good friend acquires a girlfriend or a husband and disappears. You realize that,for them, your friendships was always only a matter of convenience, a fallback, and they simply don't need you anymore. There's nothing especially cynical about this; people are drawn to each other because they're giving each other something they both need, and they drift apart when they aren't getting it or don't need it anymore. Friendship have natural life spans, like love affairs or favorite songs. — Tim Kreider

I could fall in love with a sumo wrestler if he told stories and made me laugh. Obviously, it would be easier if someone was African-American and lived next door and went to the same church. Because then I wouldn't have to translate. — Maya Angelou

You were never clingy or a nuisance, Tate. The day you moved in next door I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I fucking loved you. — Penelope Douglas

Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own home. Give love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next door neighbor ... Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting. — Mother Teresa

Actually ask him out, I can get Kevin to babysit and then we can all go on a double date, I've always wanted to do that! Ruby: Oh please, the innocence of the young and inexperienced. Ted and Greg will have absolutely nothing in common, they're like chalk and cheese; a bank manager and a possible bank robber. They will hate each other, the atmosphere will be awkward, no one will talk, all you'll hear is the munching of food in our mouths over the deafening silence like some kind of weird Chinese torture, we'll all refuse dessert, skip the coffee, pick up the check, and leg it out the door and feel relieved and promise ourselves never to meet up again. Rosie: How does next Friday sound? Ruby: Friday's fine.
Ahern, Cecelia (2005-02-01). Love, Rosie (pp. 83-84). Hachette Books. Kindle Edition. — Cecelia Ahern

In the past, when gays were very flamboyant as drag queens or as leather queens or whatever, that just amused people. And most of the people that come and watch the gay Halloween parade, where all those excesses are on display, those are straight families, and they think it's funny. But what people don't think is so funny is when two middle-aged lawyers who are married to each other move in next door to you and your wife and they have adopted a Korean girl and they want to send her to school with your children and they want to socialize with you and share a drink over the backyard fence. That creeps people out, especially Christians. So, I don't think gay marriage is a conservative issue. I think it's a radical issue. — Edmund White

The next night, Lincoln parked his Corolla right next to The Courier's front door. I'm here, he thought. Find me. Follow me. Make this inevitable. — Rainbow Rowell

I pull back, gasping for breath. Reeling. His breath is ragged, and I place my hands on his cheeks to steady him. "Is this okay?" I whisper. "Are you okay?"
His reply is anguished. Honest. "I love you. — Stephanie Perkins

I told her that we go to work to provide for our families, attend school functions that our children are involved in, take a few pieces of cake we just baked over to our neighbor next door, drive our children to school in the morning. "No! No!" She said. "How do you worship?" I said we make love to our spouses, smile and greet someone we pass on the street, help our children with their homework, hold open a door for someone behind us. "Worship! I'm asking about worship!" She exclaimed. I asked her exactly what she had in mind. "You know-Rituals!" She insisted. I answered her that we practice those also and that they are a very important part of Muslim worship. I was not trying to frustrate her, but I answered her in this way in order to emphasize Islam's comprehensive conception of worship. — Jeffrey Lang

It dawns on you one day ... how precious your life is and how not okay it is for anyone, ever, to cause you any amount of suffering, ever. Then the next time you step out the door you look at everyone and you're thinking, My life is precious and you're not allowed to hurt me. — C. JoyBell C.

Here I am again, walking in circles around the shore.
Lost after I found the truth,
Heart turned upside down once more.
The sound of the waves are healing,
covering what the pain is revealing.
The sand cushions my footsteps
so that they may take me,
and help me open the next door. — Renee Rentmeester

But as spring blooms, the birds grow drunk with love and the bushes riot with their songs. Far, far into the night, darkness mutes but does not silence them, and small melodious conversations break out at all hours, invisible and strangely intimate in the dead of night, as though one overheard the lovemaking of strangers in the room next door. — Diana Gabaldon

Adorable in her not-very-bright submissiveness, charming in her childlike delight in shiny floors, even forgivable in her spiteful competition for the whitest, brightest wash, Madison Avenue's girl-next door is all the American male could wish for: unless, by some miscarriage, he should fancy human companionship. — Vivian Gornick

I was never happier than on the nights we stayed home, lying on the living room rug. We talked about classes and poetry and politics and sex. Neither of us were in love with the Iowa Writers' Workshop, but it didn't really matter because we had no place else to go. What we had was the little home we made together, our life in the ugly green duplex. We lived next door to a single mother named Nancy Tate who was generous in all matters. She would drive us to the grocery store and give us menthol cigarettes and come over late at night after her son was asleep to sit in our kitchen and drink wine and talk about Hegel and Marx. Iowa City in the eighties was never going to be Paris in the twenties, but we gave it our best shot. — Ann Patchett

He smiled all the way to physics class. He almost laughed out loud when he passed through the door and saw her shadowy, hunched-over form casting around for a seat in the back.
She was in his class; this was excellent. Maybe she'd call him a name if he struck up another conversation. Even curse him out. That might fun. God, he'd probably earn himself a restraining order if he tried to sit next to her.
He was so tired of saccharine smiles and cloying tones of voice. People always plastered their eyes to his face for fear of looking anywhere else. He was fed up with everybody being so goddamned nice.
That's why he'd already fallen in love with this weird, maladjusted, beautiful girl who carried a chip the size of Ohio on her shoulder. Because nobody was ever mean to the guy in the wheelchair. — Francine Pascal

I knew [Kurt Cobain] and his daughter. And Courtney [Love] came and stayed at my house. R.E.M. worked on two records in Seattle and Peter Buck lived next door to Kurt and Courtney. So we all knew each other. I reached out to him with that project as an attempt to prevent what was going to happen. — Michael Stipe

I fell in love with the boy next door, and my own flesh became a thing I'd never really worn before. Sometimes, pressing my palms together, I thought I felt a magnetic field between them- something invisible but shaped, like sound, or heat, an egg of light, and it was thought I could hold the life force itself in my hands. — Laura Kasischke

Sometimes, Soraya Sleeping next to me, I lay in bed and listened to the screen door swinging open and shut with the breeze, to the crickets chirping in the yard. And I could almost feel the emptiness in Soraya's womb, like it was a living, breathing thing. It had seeped into our marriage, that emptiness, into our laughs, and our love-making. And late at night, in the darkness of our room, I'd feel it rising from Soraya and setting between us. Sleeping between us. Like a newborn child. — Khaled Hosseini

My next door neighbor just had a pacemaker installed. They're still working the bugs out, though. Every time he makes love, my garage door opens. — Bob Hope

When they are sad and hurtful secrets, like my father's death, we can in a way honor the hurt by letting ourselves feel it as we never let ourselves feel it before, and then, having felt it, by laying it aside; we can start to take care of ourselves the way we take care of people we love. To love our neighbors as we love ourselves means also to love ourselves as we love our neighbors. It means to treat ourselves with as much kindness and understanding as we would the person next door who is in trouble. Little by little then we begin to be able to look at each other's faces, and at our own faces in the mirror, without the intervening shadows that unaired secrets cast. — Frederick Buechner

If Cameron kidnaps you, kills you, then buries your lifeless body in a shallow grave in the desert where your remains lay decomposing for several decades until they're accidentally discovered by some guy on a journey to awaken his spirit at the Salinas Pueblo Missions, can I have your iMac?"
I gaped at her. "You've really thought this out.
"I love your iMac."
"I love my iMac too, and you're not getting her."
"But you'll be decomposing. — Darynda Jones

Sacrifice is a terribly difficult thing to do, of which you will be asked to do many times along your path. Only with genuine love will you be able to make these sacrifices because often times you will simply want to refuse the sacrifices that the universe asks of you to make. When you close one door, another opens; that is how the universe works and through sacrifice we are given the keys to the next door in life. — Forrest Curran

Judge was in love. Michaels smelled so good; he inhaled his arousal, breathed in the intoxicating smell of his desire. His thick cock was right there next to his cheek, evidence of his longing leaving a sticky trail in his beard. Judge breathed on him for a while, let him know he was there; let him know pleasure was knocking at his door. He gave Michaels just the tip of his tongue first. Then a little more. Dragged the flat of his tongue along the thick veins in his shaft. "Come — A.E. Via

I love blacks and gays and latinos, as long as they don't live next door. — Mojo Nixon

Early mornings were given over to Bartok and Schoenberg. Midmorning I treated myself to the vocals of Billy Eckstine, Billie Holiday, Nat Cole, Louis Jordan and Bull Moose Jackson. A piroshki from the Russian delicatessen next door was lunch and then the giants of bebop flipped through the air. Charlie Parker and Max Roach, Dizzy Gillespie, Sarah Vaughan and Al Haig and Howard McGhee. Blues belonged to late afternoons and the singers' lyrics of lost love spoke to my solitude. — Maya Angelou

You love my art?"
Adam laughed. "Jesus, I tell you I love you and you're more interested with the fact that I love your fucking art? Yeah, Miles, I love your art. I love your smelly paints and weird concoctions and the way you run your hands throught your hair so it stands on end. I love your crazy-ass bird. I love the way you completely lose yourself so deeply in what you're doing that an atom bomb could go off next door and you wouldn't even notice. I love how you look when we've just made love, and I love when you're all pissy and cranky and yelling. I love this cottage and this resort and I love this room and I love your room. I love you." He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Mile's eyes. "I love you. Do you ... can you ... "
"Moron," Miles said with a grin. He took Adam's hand and dragged him to Miles' own room.
There had to be six-no-eight-no, eleven portraits of Adam hanging on the walls of Miles' bedroom. — Rowan Speedwell

She slipped Glenn into her bed and then her face hung over Glenn's for one quiet moment, like a moon.
"Meera doe branagh, Glennora Morgan."
The strange words drifted down from her mother's lips, whispered as light as falling snow.
"What does it mean, Mommy?"
Fingertips grazed Glenn's cheek. "It means I love you. It means I'll always love you." She kissed Glenn softly on the forehead, then backed away. "No matter what."
She stepped into the bright hallway and closed the door.
When Glenn woke the next morning, her mother was gone — Jeff Hirsch

You can argue that it's a different world now than the one when Matthew Shepard was killed, but there is a subtle difference between tolerance and acceptance. It's the distance between moving into the cul-de-sac and having your next door neighbor trust you to keep an eye on her preschool daughter for a few minutes while she runs out to the post office. It's the chasm between being invited to a colleague's wedding with your same-sex partner and being able to slow-dance without the other guests whispering. — Jodi Picoult

You fall in love with the girl next door
but married her sister. — Luanne Rice

I have to admit, I have a little sad addiction. I love watching on the E Channel that stupid show, The Girls Next Door. It's a very sad thing to say and I don't know how to explain it but I am addicted to Hugh Hefner's girlfriends and The Girls Next Door. — Julie Halston

Lilith," he says, and he sounds so boy next door, so apologetic, that I can hardly even believe he's breaking up with me. [...]
I told you - I told you - that guys like Copeland Park were the most dangerous. The nice ones, the sweet ones, the ones that promise that everything will be okay with a single look. They're the ones that fuck you over the hardest. — C.M. Stunich

It sounded so promising. As if this would be the day. The day to ride a bike without training wheels. To make it through the afternoon without a stained blouse and a scolding. To persuade the girl next door to like me. To meet a man. To make a mint. To prosper. To love. To live fearlessly. — Anna Quindlen

I've come to realize that love is tragic, somewhere down the line it's inevitable. Fight for it. — Ann Marie Frohoff

I see the pricks of blood the spear has left in his shoulder, and when Mutt slides the door shut, I spring on to Mutt and press my little switchblade to his great bulging neck. I can see his skin sucking in with his pulse. My knife lies right next to it. "I thought you said to beat you on the sand," Mutt says. corr slams the wall of his stall with his hooves. My voice hisses out through a cage of my teeth. "I also said ten drops of your blood for every drop of his." I want a pool of his blood around him like the one beneath Edana. I want him to lie against this wall and whimper like she does.I want him to know he'll never stand again. I want him to remember David Prince's death mask as he wears it for himself. — Maggie Stiefvater

Those who are gone, you have. Those who departed loving you, love you still; and you love them always. They are not really gone, those dear hearts and true; they are only gone into the next room; and you will presently get up and follow them, and yonder door will close upon you, and you will be no more seen. — William Makepeace Thackeray

I remember as a little girl I could tell you the name of the dog next door, but I couldn't tell you the names of the kids. The dog was my best friend. I love animals. They give so much to you and demand so little. — Olivia Newton-John

yet she could not resist sometimes yielding to the charm of a woman, not a girl, of a woman confessing, as to her they often did, some scrape, some folly. And whether it was pity, or their beauty, or that she was older, or some accident-like a faint scent, or a violin next door (so strange is the power of sounds at certain moments), she did undoubtedly then feel what men felt. — Virginia Woolf

When combined, the small individual contributors of caring, friendship, forgiveness, and love, each of us different from our next-door neighbors, can form a phalanx, an army, with great capability. — Jimmy Carter

While the long history of religious oppression and hypocrisy is profoundly sobering, the earnest seeker must look beyond the behavior of flawed humans in order to find the truth. Would you condemn an oak tree because its timbers had been used to build battering rams? Would you blame the air for allowing lies to be transmitted through it? Would you judge Mozart's The Magic Flute on the basis of a poorly rehearsed performance by fifth-graders? If you had never seen a real sunset over the Pacific, would you allow a tourist brochure as a substitute? Would you evaluate the power of romantic love solely in the light of an abusive marriage next door? No. A real evaluation of the truth of faith depends upon looking at the clean, pure water, not at the rusty containers. — Francis S. Collins

I have told the story I was asked to tell. I have closed it, as so many stories close, with a joining of two people. What is one man's and one woman's love and desire, against the history of two worlds, the great revolutions of our lifetimes, the hope, the unending cruelty of our species? A little thing. But a key is a little thing, next to the door it opens. If you lose the key, the door may never be unlocked. It is in our bodies that we lose or begin our freedom, in our bodies that we accept or end our slavery. So I wrote this book for my friend, with whom I have lived and will die free. — Ursula K. Le Guin

She is stunning in her anger. Her eyes are bright, her chest is heaving and all I want to do is slam against her into nearest wall. I take a deep breath to calm the hormones, again."- Alex. — M.R. Field

Miron said, "Strange that men who wrote with what seemed deep Christian faith should turn traitor so easily!" Perhaps the answer was that in their writings Daianu and Ghinda praised Christ for the gifts He gives us - peace, love, salvation. A real disciple does not seek gifts but Christ Himself, and so is ready for self-sacrifice to the end. They were not followers of Jesus, but customers; when the Communists opened a shop next door with goods at lower prices, they took their business there. — Richard Wurmbrand

Writers are the most pathetic souls when it comes to expressing their personal feelings. Their personalities are as complex as the characters they have weaved. And in a curious way, without them really knowing it, writers are the sum total of the characters they created in their heads or in their writings. Yes, My Dear Tania; writers are capable of reflecting their characters, even though most of them are determined to be just like your ordinary guy next door. — Janvier Chouteu-Chando

Find a subject you care about and which you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, and not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive element in your style. I am not urging you to write a novel, by the way
although I would not be sorry if you wrote one, provided you genuinely cared about something. A petition to the mayor about a pothole in front of your house or a love letter to the girl next door will do. — Kurt Vonnegut

We've got this heat going on, that's all. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not go into that end of
things."
"Oh, it's all the same to me. You're both adults and you got two working brains between you. Both
of you were raised right, so what you do is your own business. Next time, though, lock the damn door
first. — Nora Roberts

It's great to be able to do shows like 'Falling in Love with the Girl Next Door,' which I think is entirely too long of a title. — Patrick Duffy

Love doesn't make you run away. Love makes you come back. — Siri Mitchell

Because here's the thing. We can do a lot in thirty-five days." He sat on the bed and pulled her down next to him. "I mean, think about books and movies. You can watch a great love story in two hours, right? Or read one in maybe two days? So imagine what we can do with thirty-five. We can celebrate a whole year of holidays. We can lock the door at night and turn the music up and memorize each other. We can taste and smell and touch every single thing we love about this whole town, so we never forget, no matter who we turn into out there." He hugged her hands tightly with his. "And then when it's time to leave each other, we'll go off smiling into the future, and we won't be distracted by all that 'when will I find true love' stuff people always worry about because they don't know how it feels. Because we'll already know how it feels. And if neither one of us ever gets another great love story, this one will be enough to last our whole entire lives. — J.C. Lillis

Walking into my room, I turned and caught his gaze, "But you're good at walking away, so you obviously haven't changed." Pointing to my chin, I indicated, "Except this," meaning his goatee, "this is new, but you being an asshole, yep- still there. Oh well." I took a step back and flicked the door, slamming it. -Trice — M.R. Field

One evening, a wife drew her husband's attention to the couple next door and said, "Do you see that couple? How devoted they are? He kisses her every time they meet. Why don't you do that?" "I would love to," replied the husband, "But I don't know her well enough. — Various

I love the night. Anything seems possible at night when the rest of the world has gone to sleep. It's dark and silent in the house, but if I listen close, I hear the beat beat beat of my heart. I hear the creak and crack of the house. I hear my mum breathing gently in her sleep in the room next door. — David Almond

Admiral Leonard H. "Bones" McCoy: How old do you think I am, anyway?
Lt. Commander Data: 137 years, Admiral, according to Starfleet records.
Admiral Leonard H. "Bones" McCoy: Explain how you remember that so exactly!
Lt. Commander Data: I remember every fact I am exposed to, sir.
Admiral Leonard H. "Bones" McCoy: [looking at both sides of Data's head] I don't see no points on your ears, boy, but you sound like a Vulcan.
Lt. Commander Data: No, sir. I am an android.
Admiral Leonard H. "Bones" McCoy: Hmph. Almost as bad.'
'Data: [uses a device in his arm to open a door] Open sesame! You could say I have a magnetic personality.
[laughs at his joke]
Data: Humor! I love it!'
'Lt. Commander Data: Spot, you are disrupting my ability to work.
[he puts Spot to the floor, but she jumps back on Data's desk]
Spot: Meow.
Lt. Commander Data: Vamoose, ye little varmint! — Star Trek The Next Generation

What's agitating about solitude is the inner voice telling you that you should be mated to somebody, that solitude is a mistake. The inner voice doesn't care about who you find. It just keeps pestering you, tormenting you
if you happen to be me
with homecoming queens first, then girls next door, and finally anybody who might be pleased to see you now and then at the dinner table and in bed on occasion. You look up from reading the newspaper and realize that no one loves you, and no one burns for you. — Charles Baxter

Be prepared for the worst, my love, for it lives next door to the best. — Melina Marchetta

Give love to your children, to a wife or husband, to a next-door neighbour. — Mother Teresa

The sounds next door served as a kind of trip wire: I seemed to stumble and fall on my face, skinning and bruising myself here and there and scattering my emotional and intellectual possessions. There was no point in pretending that I had not fallen, for when we are stretched out in the dirt we must pick ourselves up and brush off our clothes. This then, in a sense, is what I did, reviewing my considered opinions on marriage, constancy, man's nature, and the importance of love. When I had picked up my possessions and repaired my appearance, I fell asleep. — John Cheever

The nation has been turned upside down and inside out. The country that was once discovered by people seeking religious freedom is now oppressing religious rights. It has been a slow train rumbling down the track of destruction since the 1960's. It started with the removal of the Bible from our public schools. Next the generation known as the 'love generation' opened the door for the approval of sex outside of marriage. For every ten years since then, it's been a slippery slope of materialism, I got mine, what can you do for me, and money is power.
We as a nation have stopped focusing on God and family and replaced them with money and success. Parents are teaching their children to do whatever it takes to get ahead ... just don't get caught. If you do, find someone to blame it on. — Rick Mayhew