Fist Quotes

For eight years, you had the Bush administration with a very interventionist policy, driving into world affairs, driving primarily into the Islamic world, army first or fist first. ~ Richard Engel

Taking out her gun, she turned to Monique. "You have any offensive capabilities? Know how to fire a weapon?" "My face and my body are my weapons, Guild Hunter." A hint of that upper-class sneer entered her tone. "Sex is about as physical as I get." "Bully for you." She slammed a fist on the garage door. "Hurry, Janvier! ~ Nalini Singh

And clenching your fist for the ones like us Who are oppressed by the figures of beauty. ~ Leonard Cohen

Time is compressed like the fist I close on my knee ... I hold inside it the clues and solutions and the power for what I must do now. ~ Margaret Atwood

I'm working on several theories," I said. "But I'm currently favoring the hypothesis that the moon has a seemingly arbitrary effect on magic because it likes to piss me off." "That's a theory with a high degree of applicability to other spheres of life," he said. "Yes it is," I said, and we spontaneously fist ~ Ben Aaronovitch

​ "This place is fun, Downtown is fun!" I said, looking at the blurred lights of the lamps on the street. "No wonder you left me for this… I wouldn't be surprised if a ghost came out." I closed my fist, trying to catch the lights. "Now I get it, Dan! You're a ghost!"
​ "Am I?" he talked to me in an accommodating way, like anyone would do with a friend too drunk to think clearly.
​ "Yes! There's even two of you now."
​ "Of course, that would be the only possible reason." We reached the parking lot.
​ "Say Dan, have you come back to help me with Shallie? But if you're a ghost, can you just call her for me?" I grabbed his arm. "Can you? Can you bring her to me?" Suddenly all the fake happiness I was feeling before left me in a deep, black desperation. Dan's expression changed too, and got darker.
​ "I'm not a ghost, Drew," he said, calmly, securing the helmet under my chin. "I'm sorry," he added. ~ Elen Chase

Fucking H!" the vampire shouted, shaking his free left fist. He enunciated the g very clearly and projected his voice from his diaphragm, like a trained opera singer. "It's fuckin' A, not H, but yeah, Leif, go ahead, let's throw down." Leif paused and frowned. "Do you not mean we should throw up?" "No. See, when you throw up you're vomiting, but when you throw down you're starting a fight, as in throwing down the gauntlet." "Ohhhh," he said. "I thought you were speaking literally. ~ Kevin Hearne

He smiled, and, drawing his own knife, he continued talking. It can cut you as easily as it will cut your opponent: keep it away from your fingers. The second thing to remember is that you can do a lot of damage with it just by holding in your hand and punching.
He closed his hand into a fist and demonstrated with an imaginary opponent. He moved with swift efficiency and his imaginary foe's instant death was obvious. ~ Patricia Briggs

I'm partial to telling all the sharks they're not as cool as they think they are, and that it's people like them who bankrupt the tooth fairy and don't leave any tooth money for the rest of us. Or we can make out some more. I'm planning on moaning, 'oh, Salty! You bad sea demon!' next time. Just so you're prepared."
Kat grins. "Who says we can't do both?"
"I knew I loved you." I lean in and kiss her. And then a shark swims by and I shake my fist at it and ask it where all my quarters are. ~ Chelsea M. Campbell

It's you, Pix. You and everybody like you. Everybody who reaches out a hand when they don't have to. Everybody who helps somebody get up on their feet, or gets in the way of a fist so somebody weaker doesn't have to take the pain. Everybody who stands up in the face of evil and says 'no more.' Everybody who does what they can to make this shithole of a planet a little less miserable for everybody else. You are who's fighting for us. ~ Craig Schaefer

Saul of Tarsus. The young man's face was aflame with the same fiery vengeance that filled Ezra's heart. The elders dropped their cloaks of office by Saul's feet and moved forward as the crowd unfolded. That was how it seemed to Ezra. They were a human fist, cloaked not in their robes but in rage, and they flexed their fingers in preparation of doing away with the man who dared offend the Sanhedrin. ~ Janette Oke

With Nicky's form of EB, once an area gets over-wounded it never gets strong again. Some areas do not even heal ever again. These areas now included his feet. Even when they did heal, they were so incredibly fragile that even a simple step or a little pressure to get himself off the computer chair to the bed would cause a blister the size of my fist. ~ Silvia Corradin

There was another world below - this was the problem. Another world below that had volume but no form. By day the sea was blue surface and whitecaps, a realistic navigational challenge, and the problem could be overlooked. By night, though, the mind went forth and dove down through the yielding - the violently lonely - nothingness on which the heavy steel ship traveled, and in every moving swell you saw a travesty of grids, you saw how truly and forever lost a man would be six fathoms under. Dry land lacked this z-axis. Dry land was like being awake. Even in chartless desert you could drop to your knees and pound land with your fist and land didn't give. Of course the ocean, too, had a skin of wakefulness. But every point on this skin was a point where you could sink and by sinking disappear. ~ Jonathan Franzen

Where's your boyfriend, District 12? Still hanging on?" She asks.
Well, as long as we're talking I'm alive. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato," I snarl at her. Then I scream at the top of my lungs. "Peeta!"
Clove jams her fist into my windpipe, very effectively cutting off my voice. But her head's whipping from side to side, and I know for a moment she's at least considering I'm telling the truth. Since no Peeta appears to save me, she turns back to me.
"Liar," she says with a grin. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it. ~ Suzanne Collins

And then we jerked to a stop. Jared was blocking the exit. "Have you lost your mind, Ian?" he asked, shocked and outraged. "What are you doing to her?"
"Did you know about this?" Ian shouted back, shoving me toward Jared and shaking me at him.
"You're going to hurt her!"
"Do you know what she's planning?" Ian roared.
Jared stared at Ian, his face suddenly closed off. He didn't answer. That was answer enough for Ian.
Ian's fist struck Jared so fast that I missed the blow - I just felt the lurch in his body and saw Jared reel back into the dark hall.
"Ian, stop," I begged.
"You stop," he growled back at me.
He yanked me through the arch into the tunnel, then pulled me north. I had to almost run to keep up with his longer stride.
"O´Shea!" Jared shouted after us.
"I'm going to hurt her?" Ian roared back over his shoulder, not breaking pace. "I am? You hypocritical swine!"
There was nothing but silence and blackness behind us now. I stumbled in the dark, trying to keep up.
He jerked me along faster, and my breath caught in a moan, almost like a cry of pain.
The sound made Ian stumble to a stop. His breathing was hoarse in the darkness.
"Ian, Ian, I..." I chocked, unable to finish. I didn't know what to say, picturing his furious face.
His arms caught me abruptly, yanking my feet out from under me and then catching my shoulders before I could fall. He started running forward again, carrying me now. His hand ~ Stephenie Meyer

None of us had been in love, not really, until now. Anything we had called love came back to us as mockery in the face of this sudden flight from reason. Andy had said he was in love with Missy, and it was a shame Missy was not in love with him. A daily lament rose from him like the steam of the heat from the pipes at school. Andy's mother hit the counter with her fist. "They're too young," she said, talking about Natalie and Dion, and we knew she was talking about their tongues running along the inside of each other's teeth and the suddenly anxious too-tight grip of her hand between his legs, and the taste of each other's skin, and the smell of each other's bodies, and the feel of him slipping inside her and her settling down over him, the shape of her mouth, the shape of his. She was talking about their bodies but thinking about the words they had used. Everyone knew. "Love," she finally growled, as if the creature itself had risen from her dreams to take over her kitchen. She gripped a package of spaghetti as if it was a club and stared at the wall, paralyzed by the idea of them out there. ~ Jason Brown

She held Needle in her left hand, her sword hand, the candle in her right fist. ~ George R R Martin

Thanks a bunch, brother. Remind me to thank you with a fist in your fool face. ~ Sandra Hill

Americans. They came right out with things. Hitchens family lore related the tale of how once, when I was but a toddler, my parents were passing with me through an airport and ran into some Yanks. 'Real cute kid,' said these big and brash people without troubling to make a formal introduction. They insisted on photographing me and, before breaking off to resume their American lives, pressed into my dimpled fist a signed dollar bill in token of my cuteness. This story was often told (I expect that Yvonne and the Commander had been to an airport together perhaps three times in their lives) and always with a note of condescension. That was Americans for you: wanting to be friendly all right, but so loud, and inclined to flash the cash. ~ Christopher Hitchens

No, that's wrong," Rosa said, pointing at Dex who was sliding his fist in and out of the puppet, making moaning noises. "Ooh, yeah, you like that don't you. ~ Anonymous

The challenge now is for us to wake up to the reality of the existence and malevolent action of the devil in our world and take action against him, our enemy since the time of our fist parents. ~ Jose Francisco C. Syquia

May your fingers never know a fist. May your ears never ring with the call of duty. Before this war is over, all men will have an opportunity to reveal their true selves. I welcome that opportunity. To be a hero requires difficult choices and sacrifice. Each man can respond only when the finger of bravery curls and beckons him forth. That finger, it beckons me, Hannelore. I feel it. ~ Ruta Sepetys

(The only time making a fist around the fork helps is when you want to stab someone because he's stealing your food. Now I know stabbing people is really rude, so I hold my fork in the grown-up way all the time, and I rely on discreet snarls to protect my dinner from predators.) ~ John Elder Robison

I wouldn't give ten gallons of my own piss for clear sentence that gives the sense of a tree as a tree, when I revel in the nonsense of its being my own Grandfather, a letter from yesterday, or a masturbating fist. ~ David Joseph Cribbin

And cried for mamma, at every turn'-I added, 'and trembled if a country lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of rain.-Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit! Come to the glass, and I'll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark those two lines between your eyes, and those thick brows, that instead of rising arched, sink in the middle, and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like devil's spies? Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes-Don't get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its desert, and yet, hates all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.'
'In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton's great blue eyes, and even forehead,' he replied. 'I do - and that won't help me to them.'
'A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,' I continued, 'if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we've done washing, and combing, and sulking - tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome? I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows, but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of them ~ Emily Bronte

You get anxious about confronting somebody in your life. That anxiety cripples you and you start wondering why you're so anxious. Now you're becoming anxious about being anxious. Oh no! Doubly anxious! Now you're anxious about your anxiety, which is causing more anxiety. Quick, where's the whiskey?
Or let's say you have an anger problem. You get pissed off at the stupidest, most inane stuff, and
you have no idea why. And the fact that you get pissed off so easily starts to piss you off even more.
And then, in your petty rage, you realize that being angry all the time makes you a shallow and mean person, and you hate this; you hate it so much that you get angry at yourself. Now look at you: you're angry at yourself getting angry about being angry. Fuck you, wall. Here, have a fist.
Or you're so worried about doing the right thing all the time that you become worried about how much you're worrying. Or you feel so guilty for every mistake you make that you begin to feel guilty about how guilty you're feeling. Or you get sad and alone so often that it makes you feel even more sad and alone just thinking about it.
..Welcome to the feedback loop from hell. ~ Mark Manson

My inner goddess fist-pumps the air above her chaise lounge. ~ E.L. James

Listen, I'm against sin. I'll kick it as long as I've got a foot, I'll fight it as long as I've got a fist, I've butt it as long as I've got a head, and I'll bite it as long as I've got a tooth. And when I'm old, fistless, footless, and toothless, I'll gum it till I go home to glory and it goes home to perdition. ~ Billy Sunday

What happened?"
"You fell."
"Really? What did I fall into?"
"My fist."
"That explains the headache. ~ Ilona Andrews

You're a people pleaser, aren't you? You're the type that can't stand someone not liking you and showing it." Raising his head, he laughed openly now.
"That's just ... " I wanted to take a book from the shelf beside me and throw it at him. "I don't even have a word - "
"Then I suggest you read a little more so you can find the word you're looking for." He hid his chuckle behind a fist. ~ Kate Evangelista

Being an activist is about getting things done. It's not about standing around shaking your fist in anger. ~ Christine Quinn

But if you were going to change the chain of events that killed your child, where would you begin? How far back would you go? All the way back to their birth? And how many times had you saved your child's life without even realizing how close you'd just come to disaster, to being one link too late in a chain of events that would wrap around your neck and choke you forever? How close had you come to knowing this place - the place where you collapse on your knees with one fist in your belly and the other clutching a blue GAP bag containing your baby's ruined clothes, the place from which there is no going back? ~ Kelly Kittel

Reporters insist on portraying me as a curiosity. Rather like a talking horse."
"You're an unusual woman."
"Not really. Many thousands of women have the minds and temperaments to practice medicine. However, no medical school here will admit a female, which is why I had to study and train in France. I was fortunate enough to become certified before the British Medical Association closed the loopholes to prevent other women from doing the same."
"What did your father say about it?"
"At fist he was against the idea. He thought it indecent for a woman to have such an occupation. Viewing unclothed people, and so forth. However, as I pointed out to him, if we're made in God's image, there can be nothing wrong with the study of the human body. ~ Lisa Kleypas

These flies were half the size of my fist. They came at you and stuck to you with a single-minded purpose you had to admire. We were hopelessly outnumbered, but we still slapped and kicked and karate-chopped ourselves until we reached an uneasy truce. ~ Terri Cheney

Her free hand was clenched in a fist. I held still, waiting for her to say something, to tell me she should have never left me here, where her friends might look to me for help.
Finally she looked at me. Her eyes were hard, but she'd let no tears fall. "This is where we blame those who are responsible, Cooper, she told me, her voice very soft. "The colemongers, and the bought Dogs at Tradesmen's kennel. We'll leave an offering for him with the Black God when all this is done, and we'll occupy ourselves with tearing these colemongers apart. all right? We put grief aside for now. ~ Tamora Pierce

Ren grinned. "So ... you and lady tigers, eh? Is there something you want share, Kishan?"
Kishan shoved a forkful of dinner into his mouth and mumbled, "How about I share my fist with your face?"
"Wow. Sensitive, I'm sure your lady tiger friends were all very attractive. So am I an uncle? ~ Colleen Houck

My Father Still Sleeping After Surgery
In spite of himself,
my father loved me. In spite
of the hands that beat me, in spite
of the mouth that kept silent, in spite
of the face that turned cruel
as a gold Chinese king,
he could not control the love
that came out of him.
The body is monumental, a colossus
through which he breathes.
His hands crawl over his stomach
jerkily as sand crabs on five legs;
he makes a fist
like the fist of a newborn. ~ Toi Derricotte

There's always a place for the angry young man with his fist in the air and his head in the sand. He's never been able to learn from mistakes, he can't understand why his heart always breaks. ~ Billy Joel

We lay there in the dark listening to Emili Sande's voice. And when the song ended, it seemed that the world had gone completely silent. Then I heard Sam's voice in the dark. "So you'll be my river, Sally?" She was crying again. "Yeah," I said. "'I would do all the running for you.'" I would have sung her the whole song, but I have a not-so-great singing voice. "And you'll move the mountains just for me?" "Yeah," I whispered. And then I was crying too. Not out-of-control crying, but crying. Soft, like it was coming from a place inside me that was quiet and soft too, and that was better than the hard place inside me when I made a fist, or wanted to make one. Maybe the river was made of our tears. Mine and Sam's. Maybe the river was made of everybody's tears. Everybody who had ever lost anybody. All those tears. ~ Benjamin Alire Saenz

Her little fists pummeled at him, and he accepted the abuse. Until he realized she'd made an improper fist and was actually hurting herself. He wound an arm around her waist, spun her and slammed her into the hard line of his body to still her.
"Let me go!"
"In a minute." As she struggled, he pulled her thumb out from beneath her fingers and rearranged her fist. "Hit like this." Done, he released her. ~ Gena Showalter

It would not be fair to say that the fire stole my faith, since in truth it has been slipping away from me all my life, flipping between my fingers like a shiny little minnow
such a far cry from the trophy salmon that dangled from my father's fist. ~ Elissa Janine Hoole

He clenched his small fist, bellowed his rage to the heavens, and resolved to never again recognize the authority of any man on earth. ~ Patricia Lockwood

And Cracknut Whirrun?' asked Drofd.
'Straightforward. An old man up near Ustred taught me the trick of cracking a walnut in my fist. What you do is - '
Wonderful snorted. 'That ain't why they call you Cracknut.'
'Eh?'
'No,' said Yon. 'It ain't.'
'They call you Cracknut for the same reason they gave Cracknut Leef the name,' and Wonderful tapped at the side of her shaved head. 'Because it's widely assumed your nut's cracked.'
'They do?' Whirrun frowned. 'Oh, that's less complimentary, the fuckers. I'll have to have words next time I hear that. You've completely bloody spoiled it for me! ~ Joe Abercrombie

Over his shoulder, Evangeline prowls like a predatory cat, a glittering storm of knives at her fist. ~ Victoria Aveyard

It is remarkable that a fist-gnawingly dire England performance still has the power to shock, when in some ways this one had all the exquisite unpredictability of Norman Wisdom approaching a banana skin in the immediate vicinity of a swimming pool...
The England shirt is the precise opposite of a superhero costume, turning men with extraordinary abilities into mild-mannered guys next door. Were Stephen Fry to pull it on, he would struggle to string a sentence together. Were Lucian Freud to slip it over his head he would turn his easel round to reveal a childlike scribble of a cat. ~ Marina Hyde

In fact her maturity and blood kinship converted her passion to fever, so it was more affliction than affection. It literally knocked her down at night, and raised her up in the morning, for when she dragged herself off to bed, having spent another day without his presence, her heart beat like a gloved fist against her ribs. And in the morning, long before she was fully awake, she felt a longing so bitter and tight it yanked her out of a sleep swept clean of dreams. ~ Toni Morrison

He peered up at the house.

"I know you're finished in there, Blake. May as well come out."

I breathed a silent sigh.

Blake strolled onto the deck wearing low-slung skater shorts and flip-flops. Being shirtless must've been mandatory in California. I kind of wished they'd get dressed so I could focus properly when I told them about the prophecy. Blake joined us beside the pool.

"So . . . ," said Blake, rocking back on his heels. "Lover's quarrel over?"

"We're not lovers," Kaidan and I said together.

"What's stopping you?" Blake smiled.

"What's stopping you and Ginger?" Kaidan asked.

"An ocean, man. Fu - " He glanced at me. "Uh . . . eff you."

"Eff me?" Kaidan asked, grinning. "No, eff you, mate."

Blake put a fist over his mouth when he caught what must have been a seething look on my face, and he laughed, punching Kaidan in the arm.

"Told you, man! She's pissed about the cursing thing! Ginger was right."

I shook my head. I wouldn't look at them. I was too humiliated to deny it.

"Girl, all you have to do is say the word, and Mr. Lusty McLust a Lot here will be happy to whisper some dirty nothings in your ear."

Kaidan half grinned, sexuality rolling off him as wild as the Pacific below us.

I took a shaky breath.

"I don't appreciate when people are fake with me." I pointed this statement at Kaidan.

Wendy Higgins

It takes courage, humiliating courage, to step aside from your own sovereignty and imagined control and begin looking for the gift that comes unmerited. Yes, I'm talking about grace. Grace by my definition is the gift that comes unearned. In a world of unbelievably able bodies, where new diets are fashioned every day to keep my brand of story away, it is hard to realize you may be living in the middle of the best story ever told. That the story of breast cancer could possibly be a good story? A great story even? It would be easier to shake my fist at the test results and scream that this isn't the right story, but to receive - humbly receive - the story no one would ever want, and know there is goodness in the midst of its horror, is not something I could ever do in my own strength. I simply cannot. That receiving comes from the One who received His own suffering for a much greater purpose than my own. ~ Kara Tippetts

I had waited for the tears to stop before I called him, waited until my whole body was empty and dry, hard as a fist. But now I felt the sadness rising again in my chest. ~ Aryn Kyle

She's better off without you." Livingston narrowed his eyes. "I see which way the land lies. If I didn't trust Miss Hamilton's superior values and morals - " Nick's fist snaked out, aiming for the banker's nose. Livingston barely had time to turn his head before Nick's knuckles connected with the man's cheek, sending him stumbling back against the wall. The seascape crashed to the ground. With shock and disbelief in his eyes, Livingston slid to the floor, cradling the rapidly forming red mark on his face. Nick shook his head in disgust. Pity he hadn't broken the man's nose. ~ Debra Holland

I told him that bed-and-breakfasts have ginormous whirlpool tubs, and that I'd be willing to do unspeakably sinful things to him
in it."
A strangled sound came from one of the two nerdy guys behind us in line, both wearing tortured expressions and staring at Erin. We stifled
laughs.
Maggie sighed. "Poor Chaz. He never had a chance… he's gonna be standing in front of a bunch of people saying 'I do' someday without
knowing how it happened."
"Ugh! I don't think so. When it's time to settle down, I'm getting somebody like…" Erin looked over her shoulder at the eavesdroppers behind
us, "like one of them."
The boys looked at each other and stood up a little straighter. With a smirk in Erin's direction, one of them fist-bumped the other. ~ Tammara Webber

It's one thing to speak of humans' essential nature theoretically, another to consider it when a fist is smashing into your mouth. ~ Suzanne Collins

The link between intimate violence in the home and the international violence of terrorism and war is as tightly bound together as the fingers of a clenched fist. ~ Riane Eisler

To the temple!" their dad cried, his fist in the air. He always said that when they went to the temple. Sort of like cheering for a boring lecture or a long line on voting day.
"If only we could bottle that excitement and sell it to all of Thuvhe. Most of them I see just once a year, and then only because there's food and drink waiting for them," their mom drawled with a faint smile.
"There's your solution, then," Eijeh said. "Entice them with food all season long."
"The wisdom of children," their mom said. ~ Veronica Roth

I am a Magyr. I could crush your skull with my hands and drink this rat town under the table afterwards. And if I wanted to kill myself a passel of sailors, I'd bloody well do it with cannon, saber, and a fist in the teeth, not by batting my damn eyelashes. You'd be wise to remember it, Maggie, my love, and if we see a mermaid on our jaunt across the high seas, the best thing for all of us would be to let Sheapshank here put an arrow through her giggling head. ~ Catherynne M Valente

Emma snapped from her daze. She sat forward and slid to ground so quickly that Hart was forced to scoot back.He fell to his backside, suddenly struck with the image of how he must look: sprawled on the floor with a cockstand, a pair of pink drawers in his fist. Utterly ridiculous. Corrupt. Depraved. Hart couldn't help but grin. ~ Victoria Dahl

He looked her face over, loving the strong features and the short hair and the piercing forest green eyes. "I never would have asked you, you know…to blow everything you have here away for me."
"That's only one of the reasons I love you."
"Will you tell me the others later?"
"Maybe." She slipped her hand between his legs, shocking the shit out of him and making him gasp. "Might show you, too."
He covered her mouth with his and pushed his tongue into her as he backed her up against the wall. He didn't care if Rhage waited on the front lawn for an extra - His phone went off. And kept ringing. V lifted his head and looked through the window by the front door. Rhage was on the front lawn, phone to his ear, staring back. The brother made a show of checking his watch, then flashing his middle finger at V. Vishous pounded a fist into the Sheetrock and stepped off from Jane. "I'm coming back at the end of the night. Be naked."
"Wouldn't you rather undress me?"
"No, because I'd shred that shirt, and I want you sleeping in it every night until you're in my bed with me. Be. Naked."
"We'll see."
His whole body throbbed at the disobedience. And she knew it, her stare level and erotic. "God, I love you," he said.
"I know. Now run along and kill something. I'll be waiting for you."
He smiled at her. "Couldn't love you more if I tried."
"Ditto."
He kissed her and dematerialized out front to Rhage's side, making sure some ~ J.R. Ward

Smash cut to a smoke-bombed quarantine,
Guards like 'all signs correlate with sorcery',
It's more a dormant cell of valor as awoken by the smell of sordid power and defecting shortly after,
Fist bump dry land, brackish, cat nap 15, back to swiss-cheese the flagship,
Uh, blue in the menacing grip of a day for which you're manifestly unfit. ~ Aesop Rock

Okay, yeah, he staggered back and fell into the condiments. Big deal. There wasn't any blood. I didn't even get him in the face. He saw my fist coming, and at the last minute he ducked, so instead of punching him in the nose, like I intended, I ended up punching him in the neck.
I highly doubt it even left a bruise. ~ Meg Cabot

Silence!" Korbolo snapped. He eyed Duiker. "You are the historian who rode with Coltaine."

The historian faced him. "I am."

"You are a soldier."

"As you say."

"I do, and so you shall die with these soldiers, in a manner no different-"

"You mean to slaughter ten thousand unarmed men and women, Korbolo Dom?"

"I mean to cripple Tavore before she even sets foot on this continent. I mean to make her too furious to think. I mean to crack that façade so she dreams of vengeance day and night, poisoning her every decision."

"You always fashioned yourself as the Empire's harshest Fist, didn't you, Korbolo Dom? As if cruelty's a virtue… ~ Steven Erikson

I understand."

"It's too hard to be around you when I - "

"I get it, Amanda," he interrupted. He still wasn't looking at her and the hand closest to her was clenched into a fist.

She moved closer to the bed. "I wasn't done. What I was going to say is that it's too hard to be around you when I constantly want to kiss you and tell you that I'm in love with you."

That got his attention. He whipped his head around to stare at her. "What the hell did you just say?"

"I said I love you. And even though we have yet to have a whole night together, I want a lot more than that. ~ Erin Nicholas

Nineteen years since that day. Nineteen whole years! And I'm still looking for you. I will never stop looking for you.

Often you appear when I expect it least. Earlier today I was trapped in some pointless dark thought or other, my body clenched like a metal fist. Then suddenly you were there: a bright autumn leaf cartwheeling over a dull pewter lawn. I uncurled and smelled life, felt dew on my feet, saw shades of green. I tried to grab hold of you, that vivid leaf, cavorting and wriggling and giggling. I tried to take your hand, look straight at you, but like an optical black spot you slid silently sideways, just out of reach.

I will never stop looking for you. ~ Rosie Walsh

Striding up to him, Wilhelm drew his fist back and landed a clean blow to Rupert's jaw. Rupert reeled, and after two wobbly backward steps, hit the floor on his backside. He raised a hand to his face. "Feel better?" "No. Get up so I can hit you again. ~ Melanie Dickerson

If I understand anything at all about this great symbolist, it is this: that he regarded only subjective realities as realities, as "truths" - that he saw everything else, everything natural, temporal, spatial and historical, merely as signs, as materials for parables. The concept of "the Son of God" does not connote a concrete person in history, an isolated and definite individual, but an "eternal" fact, a psychological symbol set free from the concept of time. The same thing is true, and in the highest sense, of the God of this typical symbolist, of the "kingdom of God," and of the "sonship of God." Nothing could be more un-Christian than the crude ecclesiastical notions of God as a person, of a "kingdom of God" that is to come, of a "kingdom of heaven" beyond, and of a "son of God" as the second person of the Trinity. All this - if I may be forgiven the phrase - is like thrusting one's fist into the eye (and what an eye!) of the Gospels: a disrespect for symbols amounting to world-historical cynicism.... But it is nevertheless obvious enough what is meant by the symbols "Father" and "Son" - not, of course, to every one - : the word "Son" expresses entrance into the feeling that there is a general transformation of all things (beatitude), and "Father" expresses that feeling itself - the sensation of eternity and of perfection. - I am ashamed to remind you of what the church has made of this symbolism: has it not set an Amphitryon story at the threshold of the Christian "f ~ Nietszche

He was going to have permanent scars in his palms in the shape of his finger nails if he wasn't careful. His hand was forgetting how to form any shape but a frustrated fist. ~ Kim Dare

-He's his rival in love!*inuyasha hits shippo*why'd you do that!? shippo,if you bug inuyasha you'll only feel his fist.-Miroku+shippo ~ Rumiko Takahashi

Are you ready to possess your master piece; ready to live a life that is worthy of who you were made to be? You will likely shed a few tears - tears of joy, tears of pain, tears of revelation - you might scream out loud and laugh out loud. You might even stomp your feet, shake your fist or pound the air. That's okay, because later on you might just run out and hug a stranger, love an enemy and sing like never before as well. ~ J. Loren Norris

Oh no you don't. We made our bed, now we have to lie in it. We're warriors, and we ain't scared of nobody!" She claimed, holding out a fist. "We're warriors Anna. Mean, hardcore, we take no prisoners, warriors. I laugh in the face of the fools that would dare confront us today. ~ Sarah Tork

A wise old man taught me that diplomacy is the velvet glove that cloaks the fist of power. Persuasion, not force, works best and lasts longest. ~ Robin Hobb

Do not admire the warriors; do not admire the fighters; condemn the fist! Get rid of this low culture of wildness! Admire the nonviolent; applaud the peaceful; despise the brute force! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Maybe we ought to look at a guy's response to our microwave from now on." Aunt Annie said.
Really." Mom said. "The narcissist looks at his reflection in it. The OCD guy thinks you don't keep it clean enough.The antisocial
"
Puts his fist through it because it reminds him of his father." Annie said. She'd read all of mom's books, too.
And the paranoid one would be jealous of the amount of time you spend cooking." Mom said
Were you using that microwave again? Is something going on between the two of you? I caught you looking right at its clock." Annie said. ~ Deb Caletti

Children use the fist until they are of age to use the brain. ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Both of you know that one of you will get hurt if you keep this up."
"I can't stay away from her," I said, curling my fist. ~ Millicent Ashby

Last question: will I really get zapped by lightning if I call Zeus's Fist the 'Poop Pile'?
PJ: Only one way to find out!
NDA: Go ahead, kid! I'm sure my dad would love to meet you.
AC: Percy! Nico!
PJ and NDA: Anna-be-eth! ~ Rick Riordan

Most of those men don't want to sleep with you," he said in blunt rebuttal. "I reserve the right to introduce my fist to the faces of the ones who do. ~ Nalini Singh

Asking men to cut away their "feminine" traits asks them to cut away half their humanity, just as asking women to suppress their "masculine" traits asks them to deny their full autonomy.
What makes us human is not one or the other - the fist or the open palm - it's our ability to embrace both, and choose the appropriate action for the situation we're in. Because to deny one half - to burn down the world or refuse to defend the world from those who would burn it - is to deny our humanity and become something less than human. ~ Kameron Hurley

She looks out at the woods through the screen of limbs. Watching in the same way he is, for the same terrible things he is, with the same expectation, with equally haunted, hollow eyes. She's still gripping the butcher's cleaver tightly and her knuckles show through the skin. He puts a hand gently on hers. I think we're good, he says to her. It's gone. We're good.

She doesn't say anything. She just stares awhile. Clutching that glinting meat hatchet in a tight, mudded fist. The whites of her teeth and eyes in the dark. There is no good, she tells him. Not for us. There's only being ready for the next bad thing coming. ~ Jonathan R. Miller

Grinning, she hovered over him. Then, like a fist closing around a doorknob, her grin closed around him. With her lips, she turned the knob first one way and then the other: left, right, open, shut; left, right, open, shut. The knob did not squeak. In fact, Wiggs was unusually quiet.

Now, falling into rhythm, she sucked the knob from its axle, sucked the axle from its door, the door from its hinges. Out onto the lawn, tempo increasing, she sucked up the flagstone walk, the rosebushes, the petunia bed, the sprinkler, the driveway, and the small Japanese car parked in the driveway: oh, what a feeling! Toyota! Wiggs moaned as the neighborhood disappeared.

The towers of the city began to sway, and soon, the planet itself fell victim to the force, swelling at its equator, throbbing at its poles. It wobbled violently on its axis, once, twice, then exploded. The Big Bang theory, proven at last. Continuing to impersonate a black hole, she pulled in every drop and particle – she'd never had a man in such entirety – and it wasn't until the final spasm had subsided and the cosmos was at peace that she loosened her grip and, lips glistening like the Milky Way, looked up to see – the legs of a third party standing there. ~ Tom Robbins

A rose trapped inside a fist. ~ Henry Rollins

Flying into a storm, even its outer edges, did not seem like a good idea to me. And this was no ordinary tempest. Everyone on the bridge knew what it was: the Devil's Fist, a near-eternal typhoon that migrated about the North Indian basin year-round. She was infamous, and earned her name by striking airships out of the sky. ~ Kenneth Oppel

You will lose your hand, find your fist and gain an ally. You will also meet your enemy face-to-face. ~ James A. Moore

Blessedness is within us all
It lies upon the long scaffold
Patrols the vaporous hall
In our pursuits, though still, we venture forth
Hoping to grasp a handful of cloud and return
Unscathed, cloud in hand. We encounter
Space, fist, violin, or this - an immaculate face
Of a boy, somewhat wild, smiling in the sun.
He raises his hand, as if in carefree salute
Shading eyes that contain the thread of God.
Soon they will gather power, disenchantment
They will reflect enlightenment, agony
They will reveal the process of love
They will, in an hour alone, shed tears.
His mouth a circlet, a baptismal font
Opening wide as the lips of a damsel
Sounding the dizzying extremes.
The relativity of vein, the hip of unrest
For the sake of wing there is shoulder.
For symmetry there is blade.
He kneels, humiliates, he pierces her side.
Offering spleen to the wolves of the forest.
He races across the tiles, the human board.
Virility, coquetry all a game - well played.
Immersed in luminous disgrace, he lifts
As a slave, a nymph, a fabulous hood
As a rose, a thief of life, he will parade
Nude crowned with leaves, immortal.
He will sing of the body, his truth
He will increase the shining neck
Pluck airs toward our delight
Of the waning
The blossoming
The violent charade
But who will sing of him?
Who will sing of his blessedn ~ Patti Smith

These educated parents subjected the poor five-year old girl to every possible torture. They beat her, flogged her, kicked her, not knowing why themselves, until her whole body was nothing but bruises; finally they attained the height of finesse: in the freezing cold, they locked her all night in the outhouse, because she wouldn't ask to get up and go in the middle of the night (as if a five-year-old child sleeping its sound angelic sleep could have learned to ask by that age)--for that they smeared her face with her excrement and made her eat the excrement, and it was her mother, her mother who made her! And this mother could sleep while her poor little child was moaning all night in that vile place! Can you understand that a small creature, who cannot even comprehend what is being done to her, in a vile place, in the dark and the cold, beats herself on her strained little chest with her tiny fist and weeps with her anguished, gentle, meek tears for 'dear God' to protect her--can you understand such nonsense, my friend and my brother, my godly and humble novice, can you understand why this nonsense is needed and created? Without it, they say, man could not even have lived on earth, for he would not have known good and evil. Who wants to know this damned good and evil at such a price? The whole world of knowledge is not worth the tears of that little child to 'dear God.' I'm not talking about the suffering of grown-ups, they ate the apple and to hell with them, let the devil ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Like is an emotion. Emotions" - he raised a hand, made a fist, clenched it tightly - "are like holding water. You open your hand, there's nothing there. Better to be a weapon than a woman. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Our bodies we is always walking leaking

like a ghost can't be a body in one place

But every eyes / Catches and pulls at it

Like every eyes in any

white folks is another

Hole in our bodies



Brother / Is we is never known them close

Up close whose ghosts we brother leaking is

Whose story of us we is told is us is water in a fist

Brother we not the fist

we not the water

we the thirst ~ Shane McCrae

Think of yourselves as a hand. Each of you is a finger, and without the others you're useless. Alone, a finger can't grasp, or control, or form a fist. You are nothing on your own, and everything together. ~ Karen Traviss

You are beyond frustrating," she grumbled. "Why can't you do what I ask you to do without issuing a million questions first?"
"I could say the same of you."
"I don't
Argh." She raised a fist at him. "So maybe I do ask a lot of questions. So what. Anyone in my position would do the same. Besides, I'm a girl and that's my job. You're a boy. You're supposed to pound your chest with your fists and grunt, then do everything in your power to please me."
"Hardly. The man you just described is more likely to knock you over the head with a club and drag you away by the hair."
-Annabelle and Zacharel ~ Gena Showalter

He pressed his fist to where his heart had once beaten, and I did the same. I'm sure I looked like a total idiot, but I think we all do when we're really happy. Except for Longspee. He just looked fabulous being happy. ~ Cornelia Funke

Look, Bob, what part of this don't you understand, eh? It's a matter of style, okay? A proper brawl doesn't just happen. You don't just pile in, not anymore. Now, Oyster Dave here--put your helmet back on, Dave--will be the enemy in front, and Basalt, who, as we know, don't need a helmet, he'll be the enemy coming up behind you. Okay, it's well past knuckles time, let's say Gravy there has done his thing with the Bench Swipe, there's a bit of knife play, we've done the whole Chandelier Swing number, blah blah blah, then Second Chair--that's you, Bob--you step smartly between their Number Five man and a Bottler, swing the chair back over your head, like this--sorry, Pointy--and then swing it right back onto Number Five, bang, crash, and there's a cushy six points in your pocket. If they're playing a dwarf at Number Five, then a chair won't even slow him down, but don't fret, hang on to the bits that stay in your hand, pause one moment as he comes at you, and then belt him across both ears. They hate that, as Stronginthearm here will tell you. Another three points. It's probably going to be freestyle after that but I want all of you, including Mucky Mick and Crispo, to try for a Double Andrew when it gets down to the fist-fighting again. Remember? You back into each other, turn around to give the other guy a thumping, cue moment of humorous recognition, then link arms, swing round and see to the other fellow's attacker, foot or fist, it's your choice. Fifteen points right there ~ Terry Pratchett

The office Halloween party was at the Royalton last week and I went as a mass murderer, complete with a sign painted on my back that read MASS MURDERER (which was decidedly lighter than the sandwich board I had constructed earlier that day that read DRILLER KILLER), and beneath those two words I had written in blood Yep, that's me and the suit was also covered with blood, some of it fake, most of it real. In one fist I clenched a hank of Victoria Bell's hair, and pinned next to my boutonniere (a small white rose) was a finger bone I'd boiled the flesh off of. As elaborate as my costume was, Craig McDermott still managed to win first place in the competition. He came as Ivan Boesky, which I thought was unfair since a lot of people thought I'd gone as Michael Milken last year. The Patty Winters Show this morning was about Home Abortion Kits. ~ Bret Easton Ellis

The Ancient Egyptians postulated seven souls."

Top soul (Vicarious), and the first to leave at the moment of death, is Ren the Secret name. This corresponds to my Director. He directs the film of your life from conception to death. The Secret Name is the title of your film. When you die, that's where Ren came in.

Second soul (Jambi), and second one off the sinking ship, is Sekem: Energy, Power. LIGHT. The Director gives the orders, Sekem presses the right buttons.

Number three (Wings/Days) is Khu, the Guardian Angel. He, she or it is third man out...depicted as flying away across a full moon, a bird with luminous wings and head of light. The sort of thing you might see on a screen in an Indian restaurant in Panama. The Khu is responsible for the subject and can be injured in his defense - but not permanently, since the first three souls are eternal. They go back to Heaven for another vessel. The four remaining souls must take their chances with the subject in the land of the dead.

Number four (The Pot) is Ba, the Heart, often treacherous. This is a hawk's body with your face on it, shrunk down to the size of a fist. Many a hero has been brought down, like Samson, by a perfidious Ba.

Number five (L.C., Lost Keys, Rosetta Stoned) is Ka, the double, most closely associated with the subject. The Ka, which usually reaches adolescence at the time of bodily death, is the only reliable guide through the Land of the Dead to the We ~ William S. Burroughs

There are a number of recommended methods of dealing with ghosts - salt and iron, harmonic resonance, some people swear by exorcism, and not just the priests - but that's the fist time I've seen anyone try a left hook. ~ K.J. Charles

"Nix, I know you're faking the static." She could picture her sister blowing into her fist directly at the receiver. The static abruptly stopped. "Why?"
"It seamed less rude than the alternative."
"What's that?"
Click. ~ Kresley Cole

- I have been understood. At the opening of the Bible there is the whole psychology of the priest. - The priest knows of only one great danger: that is science - the sound comprehension of cause and effect. But science flourishes, on the whole, only under favourable conditions - a man must have time, he must have an overflowing intellect, in order to "know."... "Therefore, man must be made unhappy," - this has been, in all ages, the logic of the priest. - It is easy to see just what, by this logic, was the first thing to come into the world: - "sin."... The concept of guilt and punishment, the whole "moral order of the world," was set up against science - against the deliverance of man from priests.... Man must not look outward; he must look inward. He must not look at things shrewdly and cautiously, to learn about them; he must not look at all; he must suffer.... And he must suffer so much that he is always in need of the priest. - Away with physicians! What is needed is a Saviour. - The concept of guilt and punishment, including the doctrines of "grace," of "salvation," of "forgiveness" - lies through and through, and absolutely without psychological reality - were devised to destroy man's sense of causality: they are an attack upon the concept of cause and effect! - And not an attack with the fist, with the knife, with honesty in hate and love! On the contrary, one inspired by the most cowardly, the most crafty, the most ignoble of instincts! An attack of priests! An atta ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

We'll find him, sir." "No you won't," Childermass said. "Because Peter has done it again." He then flew into a tantrum that lasted more than five minutes. He repeatedly kicked the side of a car. He snatched the machine gun from his bodyguard and shot out two searchlights. Grown men got in each other's ways trying to make themselves scarce. Childermass dropped the machine gun and hit himself in the face with his fist until they were able to subdue him and sit him down and pour whiskey into him. ~ Chet Williamson

..he went to the kitchen to get a banana; after each mouthful he pulled back a fraction the four or five strips of striped skin, faded petals, which covered his fist as it clenched the base of the fruit; carefully he detached the friable, cardboard-flavoured filaments that run down its surface like meridian lines, in a word peeling his banana the way the anthropoid will forever peel his. He threw one of the filaments into the fly cage.. ~ Jean Echenoz

After you were bitten, I knew what would happen. I waited for you to change, every night, so I could bring you back and keep you from getting hurt." A chilly gust of wind lifter his hair and sent a shower of golden leaves glimmering down around him. He spred out his arms, letting them fall into his hands. He looked like a dark angel in an eternal autumn wood. "Did you know you get one happy day for everyone you catch?"

I didn't know what he meant, even after he opened his fist to show me the quivering leaves crumpled in his palm.

One happy day for every falling leaf you catch." Sam's voice was low.

I watched the egdes of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze."How long did you wait?"

It would have been romantic if hr'd had the courage to look into my face to say it, but instead, he dropped his eyes to the ground and scuffed his boots in the leaves- countless possibilities for happy days- on the ground. "I haven't stopped."

And I should've said something romantic too, but i didn't have the courage, either. So instead, I watched the shy way he was chewing his lip and studying the leaves, and said, "That must've been very borring. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

The next election will be a flyweight versus a heavyweight. However much the right hon. Gentleman (David Cameron) may dance around the ring beforehand, at some point, he will come within the reach of a big clunking fist. ~ Gordon Brown

Finally, the lock clicked and she tugged the secret door open. A rotten stench hit her like a fist. She drew away. The boy at her side recoiled, afraid. Sarah fell to her knees. Sarah could not speak, she could only quiver, her fingers covering her eyes, her nose, blocking out the smell ... She sank to her knees again and she screamed at the top of her lungs, she screamed, for her mother, for her father, screamed for Michel. ~ Tatiana De Rosnay

Weird. I rang it three times." – Nekoda
"There might be something with out condo." 'Other than the fact that it lived under a perpetual dismal cloud and was infested with roaches the size of his fist. It was probably over a hellmouth, too, that didn't allot for any kind of reception other than two cans joined by a length string.' – Nick ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon