From The Hands Of Delilah Book Quotes

Ladies if A Man is More Invested and Concerned About Your Assets ... He Is A Liability ~ Mo Stegall

You know, hon, after Stephie died, we never really talked about her." she says, her hands tight around the cart handle. "There's a lot of pain there. Still. I guess we feel like we failed her. Like maybe if we were home instead of away at college, we could've done something to fix her. Something my patents and the doctors and her boyfriend missed. Sometimes I think I don't have the right to talk about her. Like at the end, I don't know her well enough to say anything. So much of her life became secret. She spent all of her time with her boyfriend, and when she was home, her nose was buried in her diary. I swear that diary was her best friend, even more than Megan."
"Did you ever read it?" I ask.
"No."
"Not even after she died?"
Aunt Rachel shakes her head, removing an eggplant from the middle row and pressing her fingers against its flesh. "To this day, I don't know if I would've, either. We never found it, Delilah. It's like she just ... took it with her. ~ Sarah Ockler

I stared down at the white bikini in horror. My cleavage was out in full form, while the bikini bottoms hugged my hips, tinier than anything I'd ever dare buy for myself. What the hell was Gavin Fletcher thinking putting me in something like this? And he wanted me to go outside in it, much less get my picture taken?
Yeah, right! That was absolutely not happening.
"We haven't got all day, Lani," Martin barked from on deck.
I put my head in my hands, sighing deeply before brushing my hair back from my eyes. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
There was a gentle rapping on the bedroom door, and I opened it, wishing I had a towel to cover up with. Gavin's gold-flecked eyes met mine, and I stepped back to let him in. He sucked in a breath, looking me over in that brash way of his, his lips curling into a grin.
"Now that's what I've been hoping for," he said.
I laughed nervously and crossed my arms in front of my body. "I don't know if I can do this. You heard Martin out there."
Gavin reached forward and put a hand on my arm, smoothing his large palm over my skin. I shivered beneath his touch, feeling the heat from a connection I wondered if he felt, too. Judging by the heat in his gaze, he did, but how was that even possible? I couldn't be reading him right.
"You look stunning, Aolani," he said, that dangerous, bad-boy smile of his making my toes curl. "You're exactly what I've been waiting for. Exactly what this campaign needs. Pleas ~ Delilah Fawkes

Swish, the net sounded like the blast of a cannon, signaling the game was tied at 64. Dave then saw the second shot in his mind before even going into his pre-shot routine. The ball tickled the front rim, brushed against the backboard, and then dropped through the net. The home crowd erupted as Dave backpedaled toward the opposing rim. Central High attempted a last-second shot that fell short into Breslin's hands. The fans rushed onto the floor as the number two train came roaring into the station, bringing Dave back from his glorious past back into the oppressive heat of the present. ~ Phil Wohl

She rose too, not as if to meet him or to flee from him, but quietly, as though the worst of the task were done and she had only to wait; so quietly that, as he came close, her outstretched hands acted not as a check but as a guide to him. ~ Edith Wharton

The Fed is pushing a variety of workarounds that would inject trillions in new money into the economy while bypassing the banking system altogether. Time will tell whether or not this will succeed. Meanwhile, a serious danger lurks around the corner. Once the recession is over, the lending will start again. With fractional-reserve banking and limitless supplies of cash on hand, we will likely see the overall price trends reversed, from deflation to inflation to possible hyperinflation. ~ Llewellyn Rockwell

More than ever I find myself in the hands of God. This (illness) is what I have wanted all my life from my youth. But now there is a difference; the initiative is entirely with God. It is indeed a profound spiritual experience to know and feel myself so totally in God's hands. ~ Pedro Arrupe

THE GHOST OF THE AUTHOR'S MOTHER HAS A CONVERSATION WITH HIS FIANCÉE ABOUT HIGHWAYS

...and down south, honey. When the side of the road began to swell with dead and dying things, that's when us black children knew it was summer. Daddy didn't keep clocks in the house. Ain't no use when the sky round those parts always had some flames runnin' to horizon, lookin' like the sun was always out. back when I was a little girl, I swear, them white folk down south would do anything to stop another dark thing from touching the land, even the nighttime. We ain't have streetlights, or some grandmotherly voice riding through the fields on horseback tellin' us when to come inside. What we had was the stomach of a deer, split open on route 59. What we had was flies resting on the exposed insides of animals with their tongues touching the pavement. What we had was the smell of gunpowder and the promise of more to come, and, child, that'll get you home before the old folks would break out the moonshine and celebrate another day they didn't have to pull the body of someone they loved from the river. I say 'river' because I want you to always be able to look at the trees without crying. When we moved east, I learned how a night sky can cup a black girl in its hands and ask for forgiveness. My daddy sold the pistol he kept in the sock drawer and took me to the park. Those days, I used to ask him what he feared, and he always said "the bottom of a good glass." And then he stopped answer ~ Hanif Abdurraqib

Once the creator was removed from the creation, divinity became only a remote abstraction, a social weapon in the hands of the religious institutions. This split in public values produced or was accompanied by, as it was bound to be, an equally artificial and ugly division in people's lives, so that a man, while pursuing Heaven with the sublime appetite he thought of as his soul, could turn his heart against his neighbors and his hands against the world ...
Though Heaven is certainly more important than the earth if all they say about it is true, it is still morally incidental to it and dependent on it, and I can only imagine it and desire it in terms of what I know of the earth.
(pg. 23, "A Native Hill") ~ Wendell Berry

Elsa looked down at her hands. She was wearing only one glove. Her gloves had served as "protection" from her powers for far too long. It was time to let go. She pulled the glove off and let it fly into the wind. She was finally free.
Lifting her hand to the sky, she concentrated on creating a giant snowflake that crystallized in midair and floated away. Then she lifted her other hand and made another snowflake, watching it fly away as well. Pulse racing, Elsa kept building, her face breaking into a smile as she realized the possibilities were endless. Here she could really use her gift and see what she was capable of. ~ Jen Calonita

The doctor gave him a look of sympathy. "We won't have a choice. If left untreated, both mother and child could die. The only cure for eclampsia is delivery of the baby. We're doing tests to determine the lung maturity of the baby. At thirty-four weeks' gestation, the child has a very good chance of survival without complications."

Ryan dug a hand into his hair and closed his eyes. He'd done this to her. She should have been cherished and pampered during her entire pregnancy. She should have been waited on hand and foot. Instead she'd been forced to work a physically demanding job under unimaginable stress. And once he'd brought her back, she'd been subjected to scorn and hostility and endless emotional distress.

Was it any wonder she wanted to wash her hands of him and his family?

"Will…will Kelly be all right? Will she recover from this?"

He didn't realize he held his breath until his chest began to burn. He let it out slowly and forced himself to relax his hands.

"She's gravely ill. Her blood pressure is extremely high. She could seize again or suffer a stroke. Neither is good for her or the baby. We're doing everything we can to bring her blood pressure down and we're monitoring the baby for signs of stress. We're prepared to take the baby if the condition of either mother or child deteriorates. It's important she remain calm and not be stressed in any way. Even if we're able to bring down her blood pressure and put o ~ Maya Banks

Teeth retracting, Lissianna pulled free of Greg Hewitt's neck and glanced guiltily over her shoulder. The sight of Thomas and her mother staring at her wide-eyed from the doorway was enough to make her stand quickly, her hands moving to straighten her clothes and hair.
"I cannot believe this!" Marguerite stomped into the room. "Sneaking around and unwrapping your gifts before your birthday like you're twelve instead of two hundred! What were you thinking?"
"Well, technically, it is her birthday, Aunt Marguerite," Thomas pointed out as he closed the door.
Lissianna tossed her cousin a grateful smile, but said, "I wasn't sneaking around. I came up to get fresh stockings." She scooped them up off the bed, and added, "And I didn't unwrap him."
Marguerite stared pointedly at the floor.
After glancing down to see the untied bow lying forgotten there, Lissianna grimaced, and admitted, "Okay, I did unwrap him, but only because he was upset, and I hated to leave him distressed." She paused, then tilted her head, and said, "I take it Bastien's arrival interrupted you before you could put the full whammy on him? He was upset about being kidnapped and wanted to be untied when I got here."
"I didn't kidnap him," Marguerite said with affront, then peered past Lissianna to Dr. Gregory Hewitt to say, "I didn't kidnap you. I borrowed you."

-Marguerite, Thomas, & Lissianna ~ Lynsay Sands

Always bear this in mind: Everything is in God's hands, and you are His tool to be used by Him as He pleases. Try to grasp the significance of 'all is His'. and you will immediately feel free from all burdens. What will be the result of your surrender to Him? None will seem alien, all will be your very own Self. ~ Anandamayi Ma

Fairy tales might not be history, but as I learned in the hours I spent in the library over Christmas break, Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm were historians. They didn't invent their fairy tales - they collected them, writing down the folk tales and stories they heard from friends and servants, aristocrats and innkeepers' daughters.

Their first collection of stories was meant for grown-ups and I could see why - they're way too bloody and creepy for children. Even the heroes go around boiling people in oil and feeding them red-hot coals. Imagine Disney making a musical version of "The Girl Without Hands," a story about a girl whose widowed father chops off her hands when she refuses to marry him! ~ Polly Shulman

Who are we? Where do we come from? Why are we this way and not some other? What does it mean to be human? Are we capable, if need be, of fundamental change, or do the dead hands of forgotten ancestors impel us in some direction, indiscriminately for good or ill, and beyond our control? Can we alter our character? Can we improve our societies? Can we leave our children a world better than the one that was left to us? Can we free them from the demons that torment us and haunt our civilization? In the long run, are we wise enough to know what changes to make? Can we be trusted with our own future? ~ Carl Sagan

Liesel shrugged away entirely from the crowd and entered the tide of Jews, weaving through them till she grabbed hold of his arm with her left hand. His face fell on her. It reached down as she tripped, and the Jew,the nasty Jew, helped her up. It took all of his strength. ~ Markus Zusak

The managers and superintendents and clerks of Packingtown were all recruited from another class, and never from the workers; they scorned the workers, the very meanest of them. A poor devil of a bookkeeper who had been working in Durham's for twenty years at a salary of six dollars a week, and might work there for twenty more and do no better, would yet consider himself a gentleman, as far removed as the poles from the most skilled worker on the killing beds; he would dress differently, and live in another part of the town, and come to work at a different hour of the day, and in every way make sure that he never rubbed elbows with a laboring man. Perhaps this was due to the repulsiveness of the work; at any rate, the people who worked with their hands were a class apart, and were made to feel it. ~ Upton Sinclair

Then shouts from the direction of the doorway. I started to black out, kneeing him in the crotch to no effect and clawing in panic at his hands, the flesh sloughing off under my nails.

Then suddenly he straightened, and looked toward the door.

Schubert came charging through, his service revolver raised. Two more officers came right behind.

He whirled away from them as if to hide his ruined face. But he didn't hide it from me! He looked at me with what passed for a fixed and hideous grin, although it might have been the death rictus of his facial muscles. His voice was like a tinny rasp, hollow and unreal.

"When the world starts to chew itself up alive, and spits out its own guts... be it on your conscience, Mr. Kolchak!"

He staggered away. Schubert was yelling for me to stop him. I made a grab for his coat but it came off in my hand. The acid.

He bolted for what had been an outside window, now boarded up, and smashed through it.

We could hear his wail all the way down. And a distant, echoing clatter of falling wood... and glass... and bones. ~ Jeff Rice

Ruger's in there too. Hands covered in blood so they arrested him. He had to tackle your girl to get the gun away from her. She'd gone all Pulp Fiction on us, ready to defend you by killing all of us if she had to. Crouched over your body like Wonder Woman. Gives me a boner just thinking about it. ~ Joanna Wylde

You could have any girl in the world."
He laid his forehead to my right temple, his hands still held to the sides of my face delicately, and whispered right into the shell of my hear, "But I don't want just any girl, Hazel." He leaned in even closer until his lips were a breath away from mine. "I want you. ~ Amie Knight

She lay stretched out on the floorboards with her hands under her head and her eyes closed. Sun blazing down, bit of a breeze, water nice and lively. I noticed a scratch on her thigh and asked her how she came by it. Picking gooseberries, she said. I said again I thought it was hopeless and no good going on, and she agreed, without opening her eyes. (Pause.) I asked her to look at me and after a few moments
(pause)
after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in. (Pause.) We drifted in among the flags and stuck. The way they went down, sighing, before the stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side. ~ Samuel Beckett

Look, Pa, look!" Laura said. "A wolf!"
Pa did not seem to move quickly, but he did. In an instant he took his gun out of the wagon and was ready to fire at those green eyes. The eyes stopped coming. They were still in the dark, looking at him.
"It can't be a wolf. Unless it's a mad wolf," Pa said. Ma lifted Mary into the wagon. "And it's not that," said Pa. "Listen to the horses." Pet and Patty were still biting off bits of grass.
"A lynx?" said Ma.
"Or a coyote?" Pa picked up a stick of wood; he shouted, and threw it. The green eyes went close to the ground, as if the animal crouched to spring. Pa held the gun ready. The creature did not move.
"Don't, Charles," Ma said. But Pa slowly walked toward those eyes. And slowly along the ground the eyes crawled toward him. Laura could see the animal in the edge of the dark. It was a tawny animal and brindled. Then Pa shouted and Laura screamed.
The next thing she knew she was trying to hug a jumping, panting, wriggling Jack, who lapped her face and hands with his warm wet tongue. She couldn't hold him. He leaped and wriggled from her to Pa to Ma and back to her again.
"Well, I'm beat!" Pa said.
"So am I," said Ma. "But did you have to wake the baby? ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

You know, when you see yourself on a big screen, I tend to watch from behind my hands. There is absolutely the regret. You always get that at the end of every project. That's what's great about theater: at least every night you get the chance to go out and re-offend. I'm endlessly disappointed, which is what propels me into the next project, probably, not to repair the damage but to kind of hopefully keep developing. Otherwise there's no reason to keep doing it, is there? ~ Cate Blanchett

Much. so there is free dessert involved here." I put my hand to my forehead. "oh, that i had discovered the job first!"
Ryan laughs. "tragic."
want to hear something tragic? my dad is going to a Christian singles' retreat."
Ryan nearly spits out his coffee. "your dad?" he is shacking.
Brandon wallops him on the back a few times. Ryan holds his hands up at him, coughing. "Stop," he croaks, standing. he inhales a few times and gets his voice back. "You would have to tell me this when my mouth was full, wouldn't you?" he sits again.
I smile broadly.
a Christian singles' retreat?" he repeats
Yep," Brandon says. "Get the name: Marley's Michigan Marriage Makers."
I cover my face
Ryan's expression twists. " thats.... interesting," he says slowly
Hallie frowns. "If its a Christian retreat, why is it called Marley's?"
Its a denomination in Michigan," Brandon says. "Marlotist. I just call them Marley for fun."
I double over until my head hits the table.
There is not a denomination called Marlotist," Hallie says.
Is too. I visited one of their churches when I went to Michigan to ski one time," Brandon says.
My eyes blur with tears from laughing so hard and holding it all in. My shoulders start shaking.
Brandon levels a good kick to my shin.
Ow!" I reach for my leg.
What is the name of it, Laurie?" Ryan asks.
Meet Your Match in Michigan"
Brandon scowls at me. " Spoilsport. ~ Erynn Mangum

So far he's never been bit, but there was once, deer hunt, climbing a bluff and he'd slipped, rolled down a shale slide into some kind of grotto and the whole place started buzzing. Big rattlesnake nest, twenty or so, all small but they'll kill you just the same and he'd scrambled and cranked round after round through the bolt, felt a hot white pain in his leg, dropped the gun and jumped. Once he was out of it he pulled down his pants, found the bite but it wasn't a bite, just the one hole and too big, something lodged under the skin. He cut at it for a time. Piece of copper jacket from one of his own bullets, turned out. Stood there, sun in his eyes, blood on his hands, pants full of blood and bunched at his ankles, happy as he'd been in a while.
- "Any Deadly Thing ~ Roy Kesey

He folded his fear into a perfect rose. He held it out in the palm of his hand. She took it from him and put it in her hair. ~ Arundhati Roy

For me, hands are hard." She looks up from what she's doing. "Because you're holding this disconnected hand, and it's holding you back." Cadavers occasionally effect a sort of accidental humanness that catches the medical professional off guard. I once spoke to an anatomy student who described a moment in the lab when she realized that the cadaver's arm was around her waist. It becomes difficult, under circumstances such as these, to retain one's clinical remove. ~ Mary Roach

Continue to fill the underworld, and the ferryman's pockets, and don't even bother trying to wash away the blood of thousands that already stains your hands. Meanwhile, I'll be over here, growing old in comfort, warmed by my home's hearth and my lover's gentle arms.

So, carry on, dear. And when the ships' shadows creep over the horizon, when the chariots thunder across the sand and fire rains down from the sky, ask yourself, which would be the better way to die? ~ Laura M. Hughes

I'm really enjoying my solitude after feeling trapped by my family, friends and boyfriend.
Just then I feel like making a resolution. A new year began six months ago but I feel like the time for change is now. No more whining about my pathetic life. I am going to change my life this very minute. Feeling as empowered as I felt when I read The Secret, I turn to reenter the hall.
I know what I'll do! Instead of listing all the things I'm going to do from this moment on, I'm going to list all the things I'm never going to do! I've always been unconventional (too unconventional if you ask my parents but I'll save that account for later). I mentally begin to make my list of nevers.
-I am never going to marry for money like Natasha just did.
-I am never going to doubt my abilities again.
-I am never going to… as I try to decide exactly what to resolve I spot an older lady wearing a bright red velvet churidar kurta. Yuck! I immediately know what my next resolution will be; I will never wear velvet. Even if it does become the most fashionable fabric ever (a highly unlikely phenomenon)

I am quite enjoying my resolution making and am deciding what to resolve next when I notice Az and Raghav holding hands and smiling at each other. In that moment I know what my biggest resolve should be.

-I will never have feelings for my best friend's boyfriend. Or for any friend's boyfriend, for that matter. That's four resolutions down. Six more to ~ Anjali Kirpalani

A Halt

Lie still, my soul, the Sun of Grace
Is warm within this garden space
Beneath tall kindly trees.
The quiet light is green and fair;
A fragrance fills the swooning air;
Lie still, and take thine ease.

This silent noon of Jesu's love
Is warm about thee and above-
A tender Lord is He.
Lie still an hour- this place is His
He has a thousand pleasaunces,
And each all fair and fragrant is,
And each is all for thee.

Then, Jesu, for a little space
I rest me in this garden place,
All sweet to scent and sight.
Here, from this high-road scarce withdrawn,
I thrust my hot hands in the lawn
Cool yet with dew of far-off dawn
And saturate with light.

But ah, dear Saviour, human-wise,
I yearn to pierce all mysteries,
To catch Thine Hands and see Thine Eyes
When evening sounds begin.
There, in Thy white Robe, Thou wilt wait
At dusk beside some orchard gate,
And smile to see me come so late,
And, smiling, call me in. ~ Robert Hugh Benson

East of my grandmother's house the sun rises out of the plain. Once in his life a man ought to concentrate his mind upon remembered earth, I believe. He ought to give himself up to a particular landscape in his experience, to look at it from as many angles as he can, to wonder about it, to dwell upon it. He ought to imagine that he touches it with his hands at every season and listens to the sounds that are made upon it. He ought to imagine the creatures there and all the faintest motions of the wind. He ought to recollect the glare of noon and all the colors of the dawn and dusk. ~ N. Scott Momaday