A Quote by Truman Capote

Still, when all is said, somewhere one must belong: even the soaring falcon returns to its master's wrist. — © Truman Capote
Still, when all is said, somewhere one must belong: even the soaring falcon returns to its master's wrist.
I was the weirdest kid in this small town in Washington. I was the only person who was from somewhere else, so I think they just didn't understand it... They said I was a weirdo or that I didn't belong there. That was the hardest one when people said I didn't belong there.
You belong among the wildflowers You belong in a boat out at sea You belong with your love on your arm You belong somewhere you feel free
The Ford Falcon holds the proud title of Slowest Car Ever Built. In certain areas of the country you can go to a stoplight and find Falcon drivers who pressed down on their accelerators in 1963 and are still waiting for their cars to move.
I'm not a master. I'm a student-master, meaning that I have the knowledge of a master and the expertise of a master, but I'm still learning. So I'm a student-master. I don't believe in the word 'master.' I consider the master as such when they close the casket.
You love him as a falcon loves his master who binds and blinds it.
Everything must belong somewhere. I know that now, that's why I'm staying here.
The same goes for envy, anger and insults - said the master. - When they are not accepted, they continue to belong to the one who carried them.
A zealous disciple expressed a desire to teach others the Truth and asked the Master what he thought about this. The Master said, "Wait." Each year the disciple would return with the same request and each time the Master would give him the same reply: "Wait." One day he said to the Master, "When will I be ready to teach?" Said the Master, "When your excessive eagerness to teach has left you.
I had always been taught that the pursuit of happiness was my natural (even national) birthright. It is the emotional trademark of my culture to seek happiness. Not just any kind of happiness, either, but profound happiness, even soaring happiness. And what could possibly bring a person more soaring happiness than romantic love.
I just love writing. It's magical, it's somewhere else to go, it's somewhere much more dreadful, somewhere much more exciting. Somewhere I feel I belong, possibly more than in the so-called real world.
There has to be absolute trust between the tiger and its master, but its master must be the master - there must be no mistake about that.
I've been quite lucky in that the roles that I've been able to play are all kind of outsiders. And, you know, I belong to so many places and belong to none of them at the same time, so there's this sense of displacement - I very much understand what it is to not fit in or belong somewhere.
He said it was better to belong where you don't belong than not to belong where you used to belong, remembering when you used to belong there.
I spend much of my time in a broadly liberal secular world but I don't belong to it, I belong somewhere else.
You are whole and also part of larger and larger circles of wholeness you many not even know about. You are never alone. And you already belong. You belong to humanity. You belong to life. You belong to this moment, this breath.
Isn't there such a thing as social liberation?" "Of course there is," said the Master. "How would you describe it?" "Liberation from the need to belong to the herd.
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