Nimble Hands Quotes

I love you as a guitar loves those playful nimble hands. Without your touch, the strings of my heart can't play the amazing songs of my life. ~ Debasish Mridha

If I had my hand full of truth, I would take good care how I opened it. ~ Bernard Le Bovier De Fontenelle

His mouth found each of her eyelids, then drifted down her cheek to the corner of her lips. "Don't protest. Just listen to me. I'v thought about this for a long time. Your life is in danger. You've accepted that, and you're willing to chance our love. But I couldn't live with your death at my hands. I can't, Isabella." He kissed her mouth, her soft, pliant lips, drawing strength from her, her endless courage becoming his. ~ Christine Feehan

I have blessed hands. I got my hands blessed by the priest, and I am able to give out Holy Communion at Mass. It is lovely to be part of it. ~ Sarah Bolger

There's nothing new about European anti-Americanism. To go to a dinner party of intellectuals in Paris in 1960 was like walking into a tiger's den with a piece of raw meat in your hands. ~ Charles McCarry

When I write this in bed, I can almost hear the echo of the wind over the sand, or the groans of wooden panels around me. I can almost smell the dustiness of the camel, taste the bitterness of saltbush. And when I dream, your warm hands cover my shoulders. Your whispers carry stories and sound like the rustle of spinifex. I still wear that ring, you know ... at night, when no one is watching. ~ Lucy Christopher

The question at hand is the danger posed to truth by computer-manipulated photographic imagery. How do we approach this question in a period in which the veracity of even the straight, unmanipulated photograph has been under attack for a couple of decades. ~ Martha Rosler

The water stretched out into the distance until it held hands with the sky. ~ Katie Kacvinsky

His eyes narrowed to menacing slits. "But that doesn't mean that if you refuse my offer and stay, I'll stand by and let you have her. I won't. In the end you'll lose, and you won't even have the consolation of my gold." He took his foot off the chair and leaned forward, planting his hands on the table as he eyed Petey with suspicion. "Why all the questions, Hargraves? You'd give up any hope of riches and adventure just to marry Miss Willis?"
"No, of course not," Petey said hastily, before the pirate's suspicions could be truly roused. "You can be sure I'd prefer this scepter and the chance to be off this island to Miss Willis any day." He paused, weighing his words. "I just don't understand why you don't feel the same."
Captain Horn drew himself up with the bearing of one of those nobles he so distained. "That's none of your concern. Do you want the thing or not? Because if you don't - " he broke off as he reached for the scepter.
Petey jerked it back. "I want it." He wasn't sure if he was playing this right, but it didn't look as if he had any choice.
"I want it. I'll be off your island tomorrow."
For a moment, Petey could have sworn he saw relief in the captain's face. Then the man's expression hardened. "One more thing - you're not to speak to her of any of this, you understand? You must promise to leave tomorrow without a word to her. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Saint Cath, please guide my eyes, she prays, and keep my hands from stealing. She has to pray her prayer, or things from good people end up in her pack, and she hates that about herself. ~ Dylan Landis

He wanted her hands on him, he wanted her mouth on him, he wanted to take her from behind, leaning over the bunk, he wanted her to go down on him, he wanted everything he could possibly think of and more. He wanted it hard and nasty, gentle and sweet. But most of all he wanted it now. ~ Anne Stuart

When you bluff, your left eyebrow twitches. It hasn't twitched all night. Besides, I already told you I'm going to get you there safely. No need for games now."
I pulled back indignantly. "My left eyebrow does not twitch."
Jude studied me with an idle smile, as if calculating the wisdom of saying more. "When you're amused, your mouth takes on a mischievous curl." he went on, as if proving his point. "When you're angry, you press your lips together and three tiny lines jump out between your eyebrows."
I rolled onto my knees and planted my hands squarely on my hips. "Anything else?" I asked hotly.
He thumbed his nose, struggling not to grin. "When you kiss, you make a purring noise deep in your throat. It's so faint, I have to be touching you to hear it."
Now I turned bright red.
"We should kiss again and see what other observations I make," he suggested. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Tyranny is the exercise of some power over a man, which is not warranted by law, or necessary for the public safety. A people can never be deprived of their liberties, while they retain in their own hands, a power sufficient to any other power in the state. ~ Noah Webster

I love books down to the full stops. I love them in a way that's beyond logic and reason. That's just the way it is. I love them the way those people in the Letter Library love them. It's not enough to read, I want to talk through the pages to get to the other side, to get to the person who read them before me. I want to spend my life hunting them, reading them, selling them. I want to serve customers and put the right book in their hands. I want it all. And I want it to go on forever. And if it can't last then I want to want it right up to the very final second. And I want a girl who wants me the same way. Dust and all. ~ Cath Crowley

What are you smiling about?" Rider asked. Willow glanced at him and flushed. "That must have been some daydream you were having."
If you only knew, Willow thought.
"Come on, Freckles, it's time you get back to the ranch. I have work to do."
His big work-roughened hand swallowed hers as he helped her to her feet. Against her will, her body responded to its warmth. She snatched her hand away, garnering a searching expression in his dark brown eyes.
She quickly excused her reaction with a flirty smile. "I promised not to touch you, remember?"
"Yes,but I dont't recall promising not to touch you." He wiggled his brows in a comical imitation of an evil villain in a bad play.
She laughed and shook her head. "Help me mount Sugar before I decide to wipe that grin off your face."
"And how do you propose to do that?" he asked, retrieving the horses and returning to he side. He bent down, cupped his hands, and boosted her into the mare's saddle. "You weren't planning on slapping my face again, I hope," he said, reaching for Sultan's reins.
"Oh,no, nothing like that." She batted her lashes coquettishly, the affect intensified by the naughty twinkle in her eyes.
"You better stop looking at me like that, or I'll have to follow Sultan's example and break down your door tonight."
"I don't think Juan would be too happy about making me two new doors. It wasn't easy explaining what happened to the first one! ~ Charlotte McPherren

Mostly, as I'm sitting here in A.P. English, I think about the way my classmates are always raising their hands and sucking up to Mrs. Giavotella just so she will give them As, which they will send to Harvard or Princeton or Stanford or where-fucking-ever, to go along with their lies about how much community service they supposedly did and essays about how much they care about poor minority children they'll never meet in real life or how they are going to save the world armed with nothing but a big heart and an Ivy League education. ~ Matthew Quick

Going somewhere?" Tamlin asked. His voice was not entirely of this world.
I suppressed a shudder. "Midnight snack," I said, and I was keenly aware of every movement, every breath I took as I neared him.
His bare chest was painted with whorls of dark blue woad, and from the smudges in the paint, I knew exactly where he'd been touched. I tried not to notice that they descended past his muscled midriff.
I was about to pass him when he grabbed me, so fast that I didn't see anything until he had me pinned against the wall. The cookie dropped from my hand as he grasped my wrists. "I smelled you," he breathed, his painted chest rising and falling so close to mine. "I searched for you, and you weren't there."
He reeked of magic. When I looked into his eyes, remnants of power flickered there. No kindness, none of the wry humor and gentle reprimands. The Tamlin I knew was gone.
"Let go," I said as evenly as I could, but his claws punched out, imbedding in the wood above my hands. Still riding the magic, he was half-wild.
"You drove me mad," he growled, and the sound trembled down my neck, along my breasts until they ached. "I searched for you, and you weren't there. When I didn't find you," he said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, "it made me pick another."
I couldn't escape. I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to.
"She asked me not to be gentle with her, either," he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brough ~ Sarah J. Maas

In place of the old beliefs of a civilization based on godliness, judgment and historical loyalty, young people are given the new beliefs of a society based on equality and inclusion, and are told that the judgment of other lifestyles is a crime ... The "non-judgmental" attitude towards other cultures goes hand-in-hand with a fierce denunciation of the culture that might have been one's own ~ Roger Scruton

She had nothing in this world but her two hands and her crazy love for Jesus, who seemed, for his part, never to have heard of her. ~ Denis Johnson

Turbulence, like many forms of trouble, cannot always be seen. We bounce so hard my arms sail helplessly above my head. In evolution, wing bones became arms and hands; perhaps I'm de-evolving. ~ Gretel Ehrlich

Even now, at just three years old, it is obvious that Luke longs to fly. It is like seeing Anakin all over again. The mop of unruly blond hair, the bright blue eyes, the hands permanently tinkering. Luke isn't content to just play with his toys. He's constantly at work modifying them, making improvements. ~ Cavan Scott

Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains, Winning from Reason's hand the reins, Pity and woe! for such a mind Is soft contemplative, and kind. ~ Walter Scott

Is this about my birth parents?"
The frown lines on her mother's forehead deepened. "Well, yes..."
"Did Freya know them?" Anna asked. She'd always wondered. Freya had been such a big part of her life since the beginning. Maybe Freya had known something Anna didn't. Silence hung over the room as they stared at one another. "It's okay," Anna finally said. "If you know who they are and don't want to tell me, I'll understand. It doesn't matter anyway." She reached for their hands. "You've been the best parents anyone could ever hope for."
Papa and Ma reached in for a hug at the same time. They were a family of huggers and laughters. Anna clung to them, not wanting to let go. ~ Jen Calonita

I like confounding expectations. I can expand what it is I am able to do, and hopefully get to do more weird, interesting projects like this. There's nothing wrong with doing comedies, and I'm not against comedies, either, but I always want to do stuff that keeps me off my guard and gets me out of my comfort zone. And how the audience perceives that ... It's out of my hands. And I don't get that frustrated by it, because I'm on to the next thing at that point. ~ Patton Oswalt

In this atmosphere of wintry desolation and isolation, this slowly, very slowly increasing chill, my hands and lips started to freeze. Had I extinguished the sun? Had I killed the heart of all life? ~ Hermann Hesse

We need to keep government small, but we also need to keep the influence of big business small, and we need to keep the power in the hands of the people, where it belongs. Big government and big business aren't the only two alternatives. ~ Michael Monroe

I try to write every day. I don't beat myself up about word counts, or how many hours are ticking by on the clock before I'm allowed to go and do something else. I just try to keep a hand in and work every single day, even if there are other demands or I'm on a book tour or have the flu or something, because then I keep my unconscious engaged with the book. Then I'm always a little bit writing, no matter what else I'm doing. ~ Jonathan Lethem

The patches are the stories. Hold onto that. And the muddy zigzag of ducktape against the cracked doorglass. There's four kids who sleep here, a nuff for the fingers on each otherses hands. There's room in each of them for one important thing. They're a band. It's not they're in a band. They're a band. Four spikes of ducktape, up and down, like mountain peaks or a sawblade. Every band's got a sign, something to sew on your jacket, gouge on the wall at a show. Four spikes up and down say MEATHEADS, and you picked a fucked window to knock at, tourist. They're the best band in the world. ~ Noah Wareness

Repent, for the kingdom of the heavens is at hand' (Matt 3:2, 4:17, 10:7). This is a call for us to reconsider how we have been approaching our life, in light of the fact that we now, in the presence of Jesus, have the option of living within the surrounding movements of God's eternal purposes, of taking our life into his life. ~ Dallas Willard

To look forward and not back, To look out and not in, and To lend a hand. ~ Edward Everett Hale

He threw up his hands and said, "And you know I fucking love you. So?"
I looked into his right eye, then his left, back and forth.
"Why do you love me?"
I knew what I wanted, but on his side, I didn't want it to be because I could be so bad for him. I didn't want to be a pretty fist that he could bang himself into. I leaned against the wall, my head right by the keypad. "If we're going to take a run at this, it has to be more than good sex and your masochism."
I wasn't sure he was going to answer. I wasn't sure he had a reason, and he could be so hard to read. But then he smiled.
"Because everyone on this shithole planet says a lot of pretty words to make themselves look good while they do awful things", he said. "You're the opposite."
It was a good answer. A good thing to say. I peered from one eye to the other, back and forth, harder than I had looked into Clark's eyes or the gun's. Birdwine's left one was rimmed in black and violet, still swollen. I watched his pupils expand as I leaned up. There was a fair amount of crazy present, sure, but in the darkness of his eyes I saw myself reflected clearly. I was real to him. He saw me all the way down to the bottom and knew every awful thing I'd done. More - he knew all that I was capable of doing, and yet, he looked at me like I was something worthy and good.
"Come upstairs," I said. There was a promise in the words that spoke to more than sex. I thought it was implicit. But he only waited, si ~ Joshilyn Jackson

We should be holy people eager to greet our Lord when He returns, ready at any moment for the trumpet's call, people of optimism, busy in evangelism, hands to the plow, eyes on the prize. ~ David Jeremiah