Hand Quotes

He kissed her a little more deeply and was happy to hear her gasp of pleasure. The sound brought his erection back to life, and he brushed his fingertips over her collarbone.
"How 'bout you hop on up here with me?"
"I don't think you're quite ready for that yet."
"Wanna bet?" He took her hand and put it under the hospital sheets.
The throathy laugh as she gripped him gently was yet another marvel. Just like her constant presence in his room, her fierce protection of him, her love, her strength.
She was everything to him. His whole world. He'd gone from being blasé about his death to being desperate to live. For her. For them. For their future.
"What do you say we give it another day?" she said.
"An hour."
"Until you can sit up on your own."
"Deal."
Thank God he was a fast healer.
(..............)
Wrath struggled on the bed, trying to force himself upright so that he bore the weight of his upper body on his hips.
Beth watched him the whole time, refusing to help.
When he was steady, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He could feel her skin already.
"Wrath," she said with warning as he beamed at her.
"Come up here, leelan, A deal's a deal. ~ J.R. Ward

Lament turned to Skulduggery. "Do you want me to hold your hand?"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Perfectly understandable," Lament said. ~ Derek Landy

I do write my manuscripts by hand, in pencil on legal pads. Then they are typed on a word processor by my typist. ~ Nelson DeMille

Five strange fingers from fate's hand,
Each plays its part at fate's command.
The fiery blaze the answer keeps.
And till its time each secret sleeps.
When pain is truth and truth is pain,
The painted shadows live again.
Five leave, but five do not return.
Vain hope and pride in terror burn. ~ Emily Rodda

He slid his hand onto Riley's bare abdomen. "I got to thinkin' that a few years down the line, when yer older, what if that was our baby and I could feel it right here under my hand. Feel the life we'd created."
Riley's eyes moistened. "Girl or boy?"
"Doesn't matter. If it's a girl, we can name her after my gran. Her name was Emily Rose."
"Hmm ... I like that. Maybe the boy could be Paul Arthur, like my dad."
"Yeah, that works. But that's all the way down the line, isn't it?" It might never come to pass. ~ Jana Oliver

she will stride up to the client, shake his hand firmly (yet femininely), while looking him warmly (yet confidently) in the eye and smiling innocently, and delivering her name unto him with perfectly clipped Received Pronunciation, showing off her pretty (thank-god-they're-not-too-thick) lips coated in a discreet shade of pink, baring her perfect teeth as he adjusts to the collision between reality and expectation, and tries not to show it while she assumes control of the situation and conversation. ~ Bernardine Evaristo

On the one hand, I have a neighbor who I'm fairly certain thinks I'm the devil, but on the other hand most of my gay or bi friends have never run into issues in the city.
Then again, most of his gay or bi friends could kill anyone who looked at them the wrong way. But he didn't say that aloud. ~ Santino Hassell

A woman is like a universe; there are many things that even she still needs to discover about herself. Men on the other hand are miners, which means they are in a better position to uncover, perceive and appreciate things about women that they themselves have not yet come to the full realization of. Men know more about women than they can tell (it's for their own safety that they keep their mouths shut and pretend like they don't know anything, lest they get slammed for claming to know anything at all about women in the first place). Sadly, women are losing out on a wealth of knowledge and understanding about themselves by debunking men's ideas and notions about them especially when it comes to their femininity and sensuality. I think there is a need for women to start gently and safely asking men what they 'inherently' know about their femininity. I'm not a chauvinist nor a proponent for men's rights, but I strongly believe that men hold the keys to a lot of treasure chests that most women are daily striving to open up. Perhaps you should start inviting your man to get a little bit more involved in your feminine/sensual journey. It's only a suggestion... ~ Lebo Grand

There are grave difficulties on every hand, and more are looming ahead. Therefore, we must go forward. ~ William Carey

It was the Prophet (saas) who said "I was sent to perfect good character"2 and "By One in whose hand there is my life: None shall enter Paradise except one who has got good conduct."3 ~ Harun Yahya

The truth is that men don't want to be friends with women. Men know they don't understand women, and they don't much care. They want women as lovers, as wives, as mothers, but they're not really interested in them as friends. They have friends. Men are their friends. And they talk to their male friends about sports, and I have no idea what else.
Women, on the other hand, are dying to be friends with men. Women know they don't understand men, and it bothers them: they think that if only they could be friends with them, they would understand them and, what's more (and this is their gravest mistake), it would help. ~ Nora Ephron

I baked bread, hand-ground peanuts into butter, grew and froze vegetables, and, every morning, packed lunches so healthful that they had no takers in the grand swap-fest of the lunchroom. ~ Sally Mann

We should - we will - welcome people of faith into the political process ... It is essential that believers enter the arena. Your involvement in politics helps determine how well our democracy works. We have finally learned that government programs cannot solve our problems. Government can hand out money, but government cannot put hope in our hearts or a sense of purpose in our lives. ~ George W. Bush

Whiskey, glass, pour, toss back, glare. Repeat. "Cop out," I slurred in retaliation, pointing the empty glass at Peter.
"Don't get drunk. Fuck. I need you sober," he yelled, snatching the glass out of my hand.
"There's the problem right there. You need me sober. You need my help. You need something from me." I laughed, tossing the bottle on the sofa, ignoring the glug glug glug as it emptied over my cushions. "And I just need you."
"Need me to what?" He asked with a huff, tipping the bottle right-side up.
"Nothing. I just need you," I whispered and flopped into a nearby recliner. ~ Dani Alexander

Do you have a girlfriend?" Grandma Frida asked. I put my hand over my face. "No," Mad Rogan said. "A boyfriend?" Grandma Frida asked. "No." "What about ... " "No," Mom and I said in unison. "But you don't even know what I wanted to ask!" "No," we said again together. "Party poopers." Grandma shrugged. ~ Ilona Andrews

The breath hitched in his throat. His hand caught hers, but he did not untangle her fingers. "Why are you here?" she asked him. For a moment she thought he would not answer, then he said, as though reluctant, "I heard you cry. ~ Katherine Arden

PICARD: Did you read that book I gave you? (Wesley reacts, barely concealing a grimace as he recalls.)
WESLEY: Some of it.
PICARD: That's reassuring.
WESLEY: I just don't have much time.
PICARD: (re the book in his hand) There is no greater challenge than the study of philosophy. (Wesley glances over at Picard's book)
WESLEY: William James sure won't be on my Starfleet exams.
PICARD: The important things never will be. Anyone can be trained to deal with technology, and the mechanics of piloting a starship.
WESLEY: But Starfleet Academy--
PICARD: It takes more than just that. Open your mind to the past... to history, art, philosophy. And then... (re: the stars) ...this will mean something.
(Wesley considers this, almost embarrassed as he realizes Picard does truly care about him.)
Then: PICARD (continuing) Just consider James' wisdom: "Philosophy... is not a technical matter... it is our sense of what life honestly means... our individual way of feeling the total push and pressure of the cosmos."
(then) That's what I want for you.

From:
STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION
"Samaritan Snare" #40272-143
Written by Robert L. McCullough ~ Jean-Luc Picard

Just as his sentimentalism is profoundly middle-class and plebeian, but his irrationalism reactionary, so his moral philosophy also contains an inner contradiction: on the one hand, it is saturated with strongly plebeian characteristics, but on the other, it contains the germ of a new aristocratism. The concept of the 'beautiful soul' presupposes the complete dissolution of kalo-kagathia and implies the perfect spiritualization of all human values, but it also implies an application of aesthetic criteria to morality and is bound up with the view that moral values are the gift of nature. It means the recognition of a nobility of soul to which everyone has a right by nature, but in which the place of irrational birthrights is taken by an equally irrational quality of moral genius. The way of Rousseau's 'spiritual beauty' leads, on the one hand, to characters like Dostoevsky's Myshkin, who is a saint in the guise of an epilectic and an idiot, on the other, to the ideal of individual moral perfection which knows no social responsibility and does not aspire to be socially useful. Goethe, the Olympian, who thinks of nothing but his own spiritual perfection, is a disciple of Rousseau just as much as the young freethinker who wrote Werther. ~ Arnold Hauser

You're beautiful," Archer murmured, his husky voice rolling over my skin. He reached up with his other hand to touch the blue streak in my hair. "You're like a creature from some exotic land that no one has discovered yet. ~ Nina Lane

Say that with a sword in your hand, Frey," the small man snarled. "Or do you only fight with smears of shit ~ George R R Martin

I lost my virginity to Grant Connelly," a slender brunette declared wistfully, twirling a lock of hair ... "What? Am I the only one?"
"Nope." A different brunette, this one in a push-up bra, raised her hand. "Not the virginity part, but, well, you know."
Two others raised their hands slowly, looking at each other.
"Spring break?" one asked.
"New Year's Eve," the other answered, and then they collapsed into coed-caliber giggles and hugged each other like pageant queens. No shit. Delaney had stumbled into a Grant Connelly sexual conquest recover group. ~ Tracy Brogan

In economy, invisible hand is a set of wealthy men.
It's the puppeteer who's in charge behind the curtain. ~ Toba Beta

But that miracle would eventually arrive, as it always had, and the landscape would turn from brown to green within hours under the kiss of the rain. And there were other colours that would follow the green; yellows, blues, reds would appear in patches across the veld as if great cakes of dye had been crumbled and scattered by an unseen hand. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

Oh, oh. My heart starts that quivering, fluttering thing it does whenever he hints at his desire for me. Lacing his fingers through mine, he moves to close the gap between us. I know he's only holding my hand, but it's the manner in which his fingers curl around mine, and the way his eyes bore into me that makes it seem much more intimate. ~ Siobhan Davis

There are two things in this life people cannot touch", Edward finally said,staring deep into my frightened eyes."Me and my family."

Confused by his statement I glanced up at him,"I'm neither."

"Your right", he confirmed reaching out to clasp my hand again,giving them an admant squeeze.
"You're both.Your a part of me and one day I hope you'll be apart of my family as well. ~ Hoodfabulous

Holding a hand over my eyes, I look up at him. "Thanks, I'm glad were ... friends." I say the word friends deliberately, letting the emphasis get my point across. His mouth curves with a slow smile. "I've never wanted to be your friend, Jacinda." My heart stutters in my chest. Standing in the pouring rain, I watch him walk away. ~ Sophie Jordan

He took her hand in his, caressed her palm with his finger."Duin an doras," he whispered hoarsely, feverishly."Fuirichidh mise."
Close the door. I'll stay.
Ellie flushed dark, her lashes fluttered shut. "I ... I don't know what you say," she murmured.
Liam dropped her hand, gently laid his at the base of her bare neck. Her skin was soft and warm against his callused palm, and he whispered in her ear,"I know." He moved his head; his lips whisked across hers, shimmering like a whisper of silk.
He breathed her in once more, made himself remove his hand from her heated flesh. ~ Julia London

The permanence of ink encourages one to "go for it," to try to put the line right where it should be ... continued attempts to place lines accurately build the eye-hand coordination necessary for sketching. ~ Paul Laseau

Mother Theresa said it is not how much we give that is important but how much love you put into doing it. So it is not just how many units of housing we create or how good our health care system is, it is that people have someone to eat dinner with and that people have someone to hold their hand when they die. That is what we are called to do and it is the love of Christ. It is relationships. ~ Shane Claiborne

Ty caught his breath, nearly gasping when Zane finally touched their lips together. He shivered and his lips parted tentatively, but his wary eyes never closed. Giving in, Zane pulled him closer and lifted one hand to cup Ty's cheek as he increased the pressure of his lips against Ty's.

Ty groaned softly and finally relaxed against the kiss, returning it tentatively. He knew he'd regret this just as soon as they parted, but he couldn't bring himself to stop it.

Tension cramped Zane's gut as Ty's lips moved, and he deepened the kiss, all the itch and urge heating inside him as his traced Ty's lips with his tongue. Oh, this was going to be an absolute fucking mess, he just knew it. He pulled his fingers out of the waistband and curled that arm around Ty's waist as he leaned into the dangerous kiss. His hand on Ty's cheek trembled.

Ty indulged himself in the deeper kiss for a long, horribly tantalizing moment before he pulled his head back just enough to break the contact and pushed gently at Zane's chest. "That's what I thought," he rasped as his breath gusted against Zane's lips. ~ Abigail Roux

If you hadn't been jealous of Ayden and thrown me in your car, Eros would never have had to come to my rescue which started this whole fiasco." "Don't try to pin this on me!"
"The lonely lone wolf didn't deny he loved Aurora." Blake chuckled and dodged out of the Aussie's swack.
"Ugh." Ayden walked beside me and put a hand around my waist.
"Now I have to compete for your affection with both Blake and Matthias."
I rolled a dramatic shrug. "I tried to put him down easy, but he's so infatuated. It's embarrassing. Even with all those other girls after him."
"I can't bloody stand you!" Blake sighed. "Me thinks he doth confess too much."
A & E Kirk (2014-05-26). Drop Dead Demons: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book 2 (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series) (p. 565). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition. ~ A&E Kirk

The iron hand of necessity commands, and her stern decree is supreme law, to which the gods even must submit. In deep silence rules the uncounselled sister of eternal fate. Whatever she lays upon thee, endure; perform whatever she commands. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

God knoweth best what is needful for us, and all that He does is for our good. If we knew how much He loves us, we should always be ready to receive equally and with indifference from His Hand the sweet and the bitter: all would please that came from Him. The sorest afflictions never appear intolerable, except when we see them in the wrong light. ~ Brother Lawrence

Marry me." A statement. Not a question. It came again. "Marry. Me." His eyes burned into
mine. I breathed in, my ears ringing. My pulse sped up, my heart raced, I was trying to remember exactly what breathing meant. I was wet, and I was gasping.
"I want you. I want that, what they had today. I want it all, and I want it with you. I want you, want you to be my wife. I've got a ring, I'll give it to you right now if you'll say yes." With every
word, his hands tightened on my hips, desperate, crazy, longing. "I had this all planned out, so much smoother and romantic and everything you deserve. But my head's been spinning since
yesterday, when I saw my best friend steal a van to go meet his new family. And all I want, all I've ever wanted, is exactly that. Exactly you. And when I walked up those stairs, and heard the
shower go on, and knew you were in here all naked and wet and waiting for me, I knew I couldn't wait another day, another hour, another minute, without asking you to be my wife. So. Marry. Me."
He knelt. Christ on a crutch, he knelt on the shower floor, where he had knelt countless times before . . . ahem . . . took my hand, and repeated those words
again. Finally, with a question mark at the end. "Marry me?"
And in that moment, I realized all the worrying, all the hand wringing and wonder ponder, all the thoughts about who says what's right for a couple, and when is it too soon, and when is it the right time, and if it ain't b ~ Alice Clayton

As for myself, what has died for me has died, so to speak, into my own heart: when I looked for him, the person who vanished has collected himself strangely and so surprisingly in me, and it was so moving to feel he was now only there that my enthusiasm for serving his new existence, for deepening and glorifying it, took the upper hand almost at the very moment when pain would otherwise have invaded and devastated the whole landscape of my spirit. When I remember how I - often with the utmost difficulty in understanding and accepting each other - loved my father! Often, in childhood, my mind became confused and my heart grew numb at the mere thought that someday he might no longer be; my existence seemed to me so wholly conditioned through him (my existence, which from the start was pointed in such a different direction!) that his departure was to my innermost self synonymous with my own destruction …, but so deeply is death rooted in the essence of love that (if only we are cognizant of death without letting ourselves be misled by the uglinesses and suspicions that have been attached to it) it nowhere contradicts love: where, after all, can it drive out someone whom we have carried unsayably in our heart except into this very heart, where would the "idea" of this loved being exist, and his unceasing influence (: for how could that cease which even while he lived with us was more and more independent of his tangible presence) … where would this always secret influence be more ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

God is indeed everywhere in everything at all times - in the abstruse as well as the luminous, whether we ourselves can see the hand of God in this moment or not. ~ Joan D. Chittister

You are a free man, and let no organization come between you and your best interests. Do not let any man, or any body of men, tell you where you shall work, or where you shall not work, when you shall work, or when, you shall not work. If a man wants to belong to a labor organization, let him belong. If he does not want to belong to a labor organization, let him have perfect liberty to stay out. You own yourself. Let no man put a manacle on your hand, or foot, or head, or heart. ~ Thomas De Witt Talmage

Rule Number One is this: If you're open to learning, you get your life-lessons delivered as gently as the tickle of a feather. But if you're defensive, if you stubbornly persist in being right instead of learning the lesson at hand, if you stop paying attention to the tickles, the nudges, the clues - boom! Sledgehammer. ~ Gay Hendricks

It seems that no one wants to be "ideological" anymore, and that includes being straight edge. On the one hand, you can see it as today's kids just being against "rules" of any kind, a sort of postmodernist end of ideology. On the other hand, you can see it as kids shying away from anything serious; from anything that demands deeper involvement. The result is that radical cultures are turned into commodities. ~ Jonathan Pollack

When you work on a book and you have planned everything out and you are putting flesh to an idea and a surmise that before was mainly bones something funny happens. Your brain goes into an altered state where the words you write are not quite the words you want but rather the words dictated by the task at hand. ~ David Amerland

Lady Rose, you grow lovelier every time I see you."
Had it been a stranger who spoke she might have been flustered, but since it was Archer, Grey's younger brother, she merely grinned in response and offered her hand. "And your eyesight grows poorer every time you see me, sir."
He bowed over her fingers. "If I am blind it is only by your beauty."
She laughed at that, enjoying the good-natured sparkle in his bright blue eyes. He was so much more easy-natured than Grey, so much more full of life and flirtation. And yet, the family resemblance could not be denied even if Archer's features were a little thinner, a little sharper.
How would Grey feel if she found a replacement for him in his own brother? It was too low, even in jest.
"Careful with your flattery, sir," she warned teasingly. "I am trolling for a husband you know."
Archer's dark brows shot up in mock horror. "Never say!" Then he leaned closer to whisper. "Is my brother actually fool enough to let you get away?"
Rose's heart lurched at the note of seriousness in his voice. When she raised her gaze to his she saw only concern and genuine affection there. "He's packing my bags as we speak."
He laughed then, a deep, rich sound that drew the attention of everyone on the terrace, including his older brother.
"Will you by chance be at the Devane musicale next week, Lord Archer?"
"I will," he remarked, suddenly sober. "As much as it pains me to enter that viper's pit. I'm ac ~ Kathryn Smith

Instead of letting her go, he lifted her hand to his lips, his eyelids closing, and slowly kissed the backs of her fingers. She held her breath at the rush of pleasure his lips created as they brushed softly over her skin. A tiny sigh escaped her. I shouldn't let him do this. ~ Melanie Dickerson

One day the wickedness of the kings of the world would destroy us, oh sorrow, and armies of the world would march upon us, wailing, and the purest of the children of God would have to deliver themselves unto the Lord by their own hand.
The Deliverance. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Contrary to any claim of a systematically "neutral" effect of taxation on production, the consequence of any such shortening of roundabout methods of production is a lower output produced. The price that invariably must be paid for taxation, and for every increase in taxation, is a coercively lowered productivity that in turn reduces the standard of living in terms of valuable assets provided for future consumption. Every act of taxation necessarily exerts a push away from more highly capitalized, more productive production processes in the direction of a hand-to-mouth-existence. ~ Hans-Hermann Hoppe

I realize that while people may indeed fail me and turn away, there is an underlying goodness to the Universe which brings to me new friends and new situations. These gifts heal and soothe me. I see the merciful hand of providence despite my pain. ~ Julia Cameron

I turned, feeling steady but somewhat dazed, and looked from the hand, now on my elbow, up the strong arm, around the curve of the bulky shoulder, and over the angular jaw and chin, until my eyes met the breath-hijacking sight of Sir Handsome McHotpants's piercing blue eyes. I cringed. ~ Penny Reid

Were passing by. Once I heard him making fun of Jules. Jules was walking down the street carrying a lamp in his hand that he'd obviously just pulled out of some garbage heap. "Look at the garbage picker man!" Alphonse said. "That motherfucker is sad. He tried to sell me a comforter once! I said get the hell away from me. He's out all night looking for rags and bones. What year we living in, man? Get a real job, motherfucker." Jules couldn't stand Alphonse either. He said Alphonse was a pimp. I didn't know what a pimp did exactly. I was almost certain that it meant he had prostitutes working for him, but I wasn't sure. I told a kid at school that I knew a pimp and he said, "Bullshit. It's not fucking possible. You're making it up." So I guessed I'd made a mistake. Or maybe the word "pimp" had two different meanings. I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING to make older guys want to treat me like I was one of them, ~ Heather O'Neill

Sometimes when Rose was reading, she would catch a whiff of the musty smell of her book. She put her nose down in the fold and inhaled deeply so that wonderful smell, the smell of adventure in faraway lands, would fill her up. She rubbed her hand across the pages to feel the velvety surface of the paper. When she closed her eyes, her fingertips could even feel the words that were printed there, each letter raised just a little, almost like the special language that her blind aunt Mary could read.
To Rose, a book was as real and alive as if it breathed and walked and spoke. ~ Roger Lea MacBride

Well, I also love magic, which is, you know, different than showmanship. Magic's an art where you use slight of hand or illusion to create wonder. ~ David Blaine

Two things are always happening in acting. On the one hand, it's a team sport. We're all pulling together. But on the other, you have to look after your own character. Guard their interests. ~ Domhnall Gleeson

He had a gray face. As his sullen eyes, sunken into the shallow holes formed from years of suffering stared at me, from behind the dark lenses, I could feel myself being penetrated. Not in my pussy - though it was wet, stirred by the violent tension - I was being penetrated by his gaze. The gray faced one was fucking me with his mind, and the feeling of abject violation was grotesque. Despite my arousal, I could not deal with the unwanted intrusion on my personhood. I smiled, and gently led him by hand into the kitchen. The wallpaper was floral, in varying shades of orange and light brown. I gently guided one of his hands, to the moist slit between my legs, and I could feel his glee as it slid inside. And at that moment, I hit the switch. His other hand was completely shredded to bits of bone and flesh by the garbage disposal, spurting blood like a broken pipeline, an unstoppable wave of red. He died with 2 fingers inside me. ~ Klusterfvk, Bamafuk

Your children should have it impressed upon them that their adult life-style will bear very little resemblance to yours and that they should now be acquiring knowledge, skills, values, and tastes that will sustain them in less materially affluent circumstances. On the other hand, the fresh insights and imaginations of your children may help you find a viable future while there's still time. ~ Paul R. Ehrlich

I say, "I love you."

She says, "I love you too." And then she laughs. "It's kind of crazy. I mean you."

"I know. What the hell?"

She covers her mouth with one hand, but her eyes are shining. I'm thinking about a field of grass on a summer day. I'm thinking about the sun and being warmed from the inside and warmed from the outside.

I take her hand under the gray-blue sky and I'm home. ~ Jennifer Niven

Whatever is preached to us, and whatever we learn, we should still remember that it is man that gives, and man that receives; it is a mortal hand that presents it to us, it is a mortal hand that accepts it. ~ Michel De Montaigne

Such was a poet and shall be and is
-who'll solve the depths of horror to defend a sunbeam's architecture with his life: and carve immortal jungles of despair to hold a mountain's heartbeat in his hand. ~ E. E. Cummings

Carmyn drops her glass from her lips first and bites into the slice of lime she's holding in her other hand. Her lips wrap around the flesh of the fruit, and my dick flexes in earnest. I've watched women suck on me and not look nearly that seductive. ~ Angeline Kace

Killing time isn't as difficult as it sounds.
I can shoot a hundred numbers through the chest and watch them bleed decimal points in the palm of my hand. I can rip the numbers off a clock and watch the hour hand tick tick tick its final tock just before I fall asleep. I can suffocate seconds just by holding my breath. I've been murdering minutes for hours and no one seems to mind. ~ Tahereh Mafi

I got to thinking - when it was too late - you have to reach out to people. To your family, too. You can't just let them sit there, you should put your hand out. If they slap it back, well you reach out again if you care enough. If you don't care enough, you forget about them, if you can. ~ Cynthia Voigt

My father was a ham radio geek, and I remember the glow of the vacuum tubes from a Hammarlund receiver that became a hand-me-down to me. ~ Bre Pettis

A porpoise sounded twenty yards away from us in an explosion of breath, startling us. . . . Then another porpoise broke the water and rolled toward us. A third and a fourth porpoise neared the board and we could feel great secret shapes eyeing us from below. I reached out to touch the back of one, its skin the color of jade, but as I reached the porpoise dove and my hand touched moonlight where the dorsal fin had been cutting through the silken waters. The dolphins had obviously smelled the flood tide of boyhood in the sea and heard the hormones singing in the boy0scented water. None of us spoke as the porpoises circled us. The visitation was something so rare and perfect that we knew by instinct not to speak – and then, as quickly as they had come, the porpoises moved away from us, moved south where there were fish to be hunted.
"Each of us would remember that night floating on the waves all during our lives. It was the year before we went to high school when we were poised on the slippery brink between childhood and adulthood, admiring our own daring as we floated free from the vigilance and approval of adult eyes, ruled only by the indifference of stars and fate. It was the purest moment of freedom and headlong exhilaration that I had ever felt. A wordless covenant was set among us the night of the porpoises. ~ Pat Conroy

Poor guy, she thought with a shudder. Clearly he had no idea the crappy hand he'd been dealt. If she had to choose between being an angel and a dog, she'd choose the dog. They, at least, were respectable Bianka of Lasyter ~ Gena Showalter

Herein Moses was a type of Christ, who stands between God and man, to show us the word of the Lord, a blessed days-man, that has laid his hand upon us both, so that we may both hear from God and speak to him without trembling. ~ Matthew Henry

This is a faithless old world. Men and women are hardheaded, pleasure-mad, money crazy. They write up their successes and say, "The power and might of my hand have done these things." God has been ruled out; consequently, the thrill and romance of true living are gone for most people. ~ Lee Roberson

Curiously enough, it seems that at times the spiritual side prevails, and then the materialistic side - in wave-like motions following each other. ...At one time the full flood of materialistic ideas prevails, and everything in this life - prosperity, the education which procures more pleasures, more food - will become glorious at first and then that will degrade and degenerate. Along with the prosperity will rise to white heat all the inborn jealousies and hatreds of the human race. Competition and merciless cruelty will be the watchword of the day. To quote a very commonplace and not very elegant English proverb, "Everyone for himself, and the devil take the hindmost", becomes the motto of the day. Then people think that the whole scheme of life is a failure. And the world would be destroyed had not spirituality come to the rescue and lent a helping hand to the sinking world. Then the world gets new hope and finds a new basis for a new building, and another wave of spirituality comes, which in time again declines. As a rule, spirituality brings a class of men who lay exclusive claim to the special powers of the world. The immediate effect of this is a reaction towards materialism, which opens the door to scores of exclusive claims, until the time comes when not only all the spiritual powers of the race, but all its material powers and privileges are centered in the hands of a very few; and these few, standing on the necks of the masses of the people, want to rule them. Then ~ Swami Vivekananda

I wish i Could throw a stone high in the air, keep looking at that and never want it to come back or disappear. that is just what our life is we want it to stay high and never come to an end. On the other hand we dont work that much for it ~ Ahad Aadi

She was always threatening rain; he had been born with an umbrella in his hand. ~ Michael Chabon

I may not survive," Roderick said, resting his hand on the small of her back,"if I wait any longer to kiss you. ~ Margaret Mallory

Every institution places its ultimate weight on preserving its own life. That is why the Church emphasizes loving God over loving one's neighbor ... The push for justice on the other hand might be at the center of the Gospel but it also attacks the balance of power in the society. Since the rich always exploit the poor, to give the poor power, dignity and humanity makes them less pliable, less cooperative. ~ John Shelby Spong

Stop calling me a Nazi." "Why should I?" Miles's hand came down on the desk. "Because the systematic slaughter of millions of people isn't funny! ~ Francesca Zappia

The psalmist saith more to the point about true happiness in this short Psalm than any one of the philosophers, or all of them put together; they did but beat the bush, God hath here put the bird into our hand. John Trapp, 1660 ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon

I was convinced in middle school that I invented tight-rolling your pants, because I would get hand-me-downs from my brothers, and of course they were bell-bottoms from the '70s. So I would fold and fold over the bells. I like to think I started the trend. But I didn't. ~ Patrick Wilson

You have only to lift your hand,' Thorkel Fostri said. And after a moment, 'What else were you born for?'
'Why not happiness, like other men? Thorfinn said.
'You have that,' said his foster-father. 'But if you try to trap it, it will change. Why do you resist? It is your right.'
'I resist because it is no use resisting,' Thorfinn said. 'Do you not think that is unfair? I shall be King because I was King; and I shall die because I did die; and did I remember them, I could even tell what are the three ways it might befall me. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

all the respects that I have so far mentioned, conversation fits the bill of a free association which is subservient to no purpose but itself, and which is destroyed by the bossiness and urgencies of the planner, the utopian and the rationalist. On the other hand, conversations have to be among few participants if they are to dispense with some kind of central discipline or with accepted procedures and conventions. As ~ Roger Scruton

Flora reached out and grabbed hold of William Spiver's hand, and he held on to her. It was as if he were drowning and she were standing on solid ground. According to TERRIBLE THINGS! drowning people were desperate, out of their minds with fear. In their panic they could pull you, the rescuer, under, if you weren't careful. So Flora held on tightly to William Spiver. And he held on tightly back. ~ Kate DiCamillo

On the other hand, if surrounded by ignorance, coarseness, and selfishness, they will unconsciously assume the same character, and grow up to adult years rude, uncultivated, and all the more dangerous to society if placed amidst the manifold temptations of what is called civilised life. "Give your child to be educated by a slave," said an ancient Greek, "and instead of one slave, you will then have two." The child cannot help imitating what he sees. Everything is to him a model - of manner, of gesture, of speech, of habit, of character. "For the child," says Richter, "the most important era of life is that of childhood, when he begins to colour and mould himself by companionship with others. ~ Samuel Smiles

We lived in a safe, family-friendly area, but parts of London were rough, as you'd expect from any large city. Mark had a knack for attracting muggers. One time, we were in a train station and a little kid--no more than about eight years old--came up to him: "Oi, mate, give me your phone." We always carried the cool Nokia phones with the Snake game on them, and they were the hot item. It was like inviting trouble carrying one around, but we didn't care.
Mark thought the mini-mugger was crazy: "Are you kidding me? No way." Then he looked over his shoulder and realized the kid wasn't alone; he had a whole gang with him. So Mark handed over his phone and the kid ran off. I never let him live down the fact that an eight-year-old had mugged him.
I had my own incident as well, but I handled it a little differently. I got off the train at Herne Hill station and noticed that two guys were following me. I could hear their footsteps getting closer and closer. "Give us your backpack," they threatened me.
"Why? All I have is my homework in here," I tried to reason with them. They had seen me on the train with my minidisc player and they knew I was holding out on them. "Give it," they threatened.
My bag was covered with key chains and buttons, and as I took it off my shoulder, pretending to give it to them, I swung it hard in their faces. All that hardware knocked one of them to the ground and stunned the other. With my bag in my hand, I ran the mile home without ever ~ Derek Hough

Every productive person you will ever come across believes in routine. Hand on my heart, I haven't yet met one who has found 'flying by the seat of their pants' to be an effective way to go about things. That's because having a routine reduces cognitive load. The more stuff you can do on autopilot, the more room you have for ideas and making stuff happen. Having ~ Kelly Exeter

Can you feel this" He flattened her hand on his chest. His heart thudded rapidly against her palm. "It always does this when you're near me. When you're not, I'm looking for you, feeling something missing. I'm not whole when you're not around. It took being with you again to discover how empty my life was without you in it."
- Brady Fitzpatrick ~ Natalie J. Damschroder

If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet. A majority by definition, society thinks of itself as having other options than reading verses, no matter how well written. Its failure to do so results in its sinking to that level of locution at which society falls easy prey to a demagogue or a tyrant. This is society's own equivalent of oblivion. ~ Joseph Brodsky

Hey, suit guy! The man bellowed.
Chris bit back the urge to yell. He turned, expecting to be confronted by a hand held out for money. What he saw was a pair of enormous eyes, the same color as the spring sky, set in a face with high cheekbones and a delicate chiseled jaw. The man's short, spiked hair was dyed a vibrant purple, making his creamy pale skin glow. Letting his gaze shift downward in a sudden still silence, Chris took in the sleek, sculpted muscles under the snug green t-shirt, the faded jeans molded to slim hips and thighs.
He'd never in his life's seen anyone so beautiful. ~ Ally Blue

It cannot bring back and make whole those who suffered and died by a racist's criminal hand. But it can at least reaffirm our nation's commitment to seek the truth and make equal justice a reality. ~ Christopher Dodd

I know life isn't always about bright colors and fireworks. Sometimes the colors aren't always clear, and our days get so hard they hurt. But settle down with me, hold my hand, let me kiss you. All I want is to know you more.
Better than anyone else has before. ~ Courtney Peppernell

A knife is cutlery in one hand and a weapon in another. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate ... but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins. ~ Franz Kafka

Goldene Haar!' he exclaims and takes one of my long braids into his hand. I am not certain I heard right. Did he say 'golden hair' about my braids?
Are you Jewish? The question startles me. 'Yes, I am Jewish.' How old are you?
I am thirteen.' 'You are tall for your age. Is this your mother?' He touches Mommy lightly on the shoulder. 'You go with your mother. ~ Livia Bitton-Jackson

Get in here," she ordered, waving her hand at him and moving inside. "If I knew you were coming, I'd have made cookies. Since I didn't, you get Chips Ahoy or Oreos. I think I also have some Nilla Wafers."

Fuck, but it felt good to know some things didn't change.

"May have escaped you, darlin', but I'm not eight anymore," he muttered, coming in behind her and closing the door.

She whirled on him. "I'm not either. I still like my cookies. ~ Kristen Ashley

I am speechless: what can I answer?
I put hand on my mouth.
I have said too much already;
now I will speak no more. ~ Stephen Mitchell

He's so busy looking inside people to find the good that he misses the knife they're holding in their hand. ~ Alexandra Bracken

Endless longing; a face you'd known since childhood, since birth almost; a body that moved as though it were your own. These were things you never spoke of, things you never hoped for; things you could never admit to. Things you'd die for, and die of. ~ Elizabeth Hand

I don't fool you, do I? Those others" - he waved a vague hand to indicate their
missing comrades - "they think I'm all that - but you know better, don't you."
"Know what?" she'd asked.
He leaned forward, smelling of beer and cigarettes. "You know I'm a fraud. I can
feel the beast inside me, screaming to get out. And if I loose it, it will pull me up to greatness despite myself."
"So why not let it free?" She hadn't been a werewolf then. The world had been a gentler place, the monsters safely in their closets, and she had been brave in her ignorance.
His eyes were old and weary, his voice slurring a bit. "Because then everyone would
see," he told her.
"See what?"
"Me. ~ Patricia Briggs

I think 'Hand to God' is going to change the landscape of Broadway. I think Broadway, truthfully, will never be the same. ~ Geneva Carr

The only way to stop a rebellion is to crush it with blood and fire, and to wound them so they'll never dare to raise a hand again. ~ Rachel Caine

Ellis squatted down next to her and put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Clairey ... " Her name sounded strange on his lips for the first time. ~ Tracy Winegar

Discontented people might talk of corruption in the Commons, closeness in the Commons, and the necessity of reforming the Commons, said Mr. Spenlow solemnly, in conclusion; but when the price of wheat per bushel had been highest, the Commons had been busiest; and a man might lay his hand upon his heart, and say this to the whole world, - 'Touch the Commons, and down comes the country!' I listened to all this with attention; and though, ~ Charles Dickens

It is the lot of God's ministers not only to suffer opposition at the hand of a wicked world, but also to see the patient indoctrination of many years quickly undone by such religious fanatics. This hurts more than the persecution of tyrants. We are treated shabbily on the outside by tyrants, on the inside by those whom we have restored to the liberty of the Gospel, and also by false brethren. But this is our comfort and our glory, that being called of God we have the promise of everlasting life. We look for that reward which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man. ~ Martin Luther

My friend once told me
she liked this guy because of his hands
And I found it absurd that anyone
would develop feelings over one feature,
and not care about the rest

It wasn't until you used your hands
to cup the back of my neck the first time we kissed
and I could feel your firm grasp pull me closer,
and my insides exploded
and my head buzzed with bliss.

And the first night you slept over,
you fell asleep with your hand
laid over my stomach
and your fingers felt like a fire
that I didn't mind burning my skin.

The first time we got drunk,
was the first time you played with my hair,
and my god I was hooked,
I'd drink forever if it meant you'd never stop.

And in public you'd hold my hand,
and rub your thumb in little circles
that left me wanting you more,
no matter what you would never let me go,
I was glued to you,
and I honestly didn't mind

When we talked about breaking up,
you saw my lips quiver with fear,
and you brushed over my lips with your fingers
before pulling me into your lap
and you kissed me like never before.
With your hands on my hips
pulling me so close to you,
leaving no space in between us.
It was then I realized I never wanted you to go

Its now that,
I finally understand why hands
were the only feature that mattered. ~ Carol Shlyakhova

His large hand closes across around my mouth to stop me from screaming, and he holds me easily in place. The logical part of my brain is expecting this and tries to quell the spike of adrenaline which rushes through my body, but the instinct to fight is stronger than I'd anticipated. Impulsively I struggle to break out of the bonds of his arms, and he tightens his grip on me instantly. ~ Felicity Brandon

Marcelina loved that miniscule, precise moment when the needle entered her face. It was silver; it was pure. It was the violence that healed, the violation that brought perfection. There was no pain, never any pain, only a sense of the most delicate of penetrations, like a mosquito exquisitely sipping blood, a precision piece of human technology slipping between the gross tissues and cells of her flesh. She could see the needle out of the corner of her eye; in the foreshortened reality of the ultra-close-up it was like the stem of a steel flower. The latex-gloved hand that held the syringe was as vast as the creating hand of God: Marcelina had watched it swim across her field of vision, seeking its spot, so close, so thrillingly, dangerously close to her naked eyeball. And then the gentle stab. Always she closed her eyes as the fingers applied pressure to the plunger. She wanted to feel the poison entering her flesh, imagine it whipping the bloated, slack, lazy cells into panic, the washes of immune response chemicals as they realized they were under toxic attack; the blessed inflammation, the swelling of the wrinkled, lined skin into smoothness, tightness, beauty, youth.

Marcelina Hoffman was well on her way to becoming a Botox junkie.

Such a simple treat; the beauty salon was on the same block as Canal Quatro. Marcelina had pioneered the lunch-hour face lift to such an extent that Lisandra had appropriated it as the premise for an entire series. Whore. ~ Ian McDonald

To Cecelia, the friend I needed as a child and found as an adult, thank you for finding me at just the right time - on my knees, ready to give up writing forever, and for holding my hand in the dark and showing me the way. ~ K.A. Reynolds

It's funny how you can think you've said something when you never really did."
I giggled, feeling that the words were coming in his very next breath. "It's also funny how you can think you've heard something when you didn't either," he said instead.
All the humor vanished from the moment. "I know what you mean." I swallowed and watched as his hand moved from my cheek to lace his fingers through mine, knowing that he and I were both watching them. "Maybe, for some people, it would be hard to confess that. Like, if they worried they might not make it to the end." He sighed. "Or it would be hard to say if you worried that someone might not want to make it to the end ... maybe never quite gave up on someone else. ~ Kiera Cass