Potter S Hand Quotes

If God made gay people, then did God not intend them to be gay? Did the Potter's hand slip? ~ Christina Engela

Supposed to in one hand, s*** in the other; see what you get the most of- V to Rhage ~ J.R. Ward

Think of those fingers as abilities. A creative person may write, paint, sculpt, or think up math formulae;
he or she might dance or sing or play a musical instrument. Those are the fingers, but creativity is the hand that gives them life.
& just as all hands are basically the same - form follows function - all creative people are the same once you get down to the place where the fingers join. ~ Stephen King

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair -
Lean on a garden urn -
Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair -
Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise -
Fling them to the ground and turn
With a fugitive resentment in your eyes:
But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.

So I would have had him leave,
So I would have had her stand and grieve,
So he would have left
As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised,
As the mind deserts the body it has used.
I should find
Some way incomparably light and deft,
Some way we both should understand,
Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.

She turned away, but with the autumn weather
Compelled my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
And I wonder how they should have been together!
I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze
The troubled midnight and the noon's repose. ~ T.S. Eliot

The biblical way to help people rise out of poverty is through wealth creation, not wealth redistribution. For lasting results, we must offer the poor a hand up, not merely a handout. You spell long-term poverty reduction "j-o-b-s." Training and tools liberate people. Trade, not aid, builds the prosperity of nations. ~ Wayne A. Grudem

It's just you now."
"Just you." Tom closed his eyes for just a second, soothed by the warm rub of Prophet's palm, then opened them. "I love you. Who the fuck else could compete?"
Prophet pulled back for a second. Repeated, "Who the fuck else could compete?" with his hand on Tom's heart. ~ S.E. Jakes

Nahri rose to her feet. "We need to retrieve Suleiman's seal," she declared. "It's our only hope of defeating them." She glanced down at Ali, reaching out her hand. "Are you with me?"
Ali took a deep breath but then clasped her hand and climbed to his feet. "Until the end. ~ S.A. Chakraborty

Yeah, it's true we're all dealt a set of cards. But it's also true that it's up to us to figure out how to play the hand. ~ Francis S. Collins

In GTMO, interrogators are taught more about the potential behavior of detainees than about their actual Intelligence value, and so the U.S. Interrogators consistently succeeded in missing the most trivial information about their own detainees. I'm not speaking about second hand information; I'm speaking about my own experience. ~ Mohamedou Ould Slahi

Tongue and hand tied. It cut me off, trapped and held me within my own silent dark word tomb. ~ Jazz Feylynn

I remember seeing one elderly man look at us, and he held his hand out, and most frightening were his eyes, dark as a soulless abyss, so black that it looked as if it had been blasted from a cyclone. I felt he was looking right at me. For a moment, I thought I was looking through his sockets, past his brain and behind him; as the tears started rolling down my cheeks a godless universe was expanding within me. Then I became hysterical. ~ Alfred Nestor

Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you. ~ J.K. Rowling

How I define patriotism, a knife, a riffle and some hand-gernades. ~ Billy S. VanOrsdol

Violet is missing, and it seems Vance is as well," Damien says on a huff as he exits.

"Why the bloody hell would he leave with her directly after a wolf attack?" I ask as I start toward the door, finishing off my drink. "Without a word?"

"I'm not sure he left with her, so much as chased after her, since it looks like he found her note first," Damien says as he jogs down the stairs.

I have the paper snatched out of his hand before he realizes it's missing, and I flip it over, reading it.

DO NOT FOLLOW ME. THIS VACATION SUCKS TOO HARD TO STAY. I'M GOING HOME TO RELAX.

Sincerely,

the SINGLE gypsy girl who can think for herself

P.S. I'LL KEY YOUR FUCKING CARS if you come looking for me before I'm ready to deal with you again.

"Little rude to leave so soon, considering how hard I worked to find out where the hell you'd all gone," I point out before walking out the door.

I'm gone before they can further delay me.

"She put it in shouty caps!" Damien calls to my back, though I have no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean. ~ Kristy Cunning

The Happy Trinity is her home: nothing can trouble her joy.
She is the bird that evades every net: the wild deer that leaps every pitfall.
Like the mother bird to its chickens or a shield to the armed knight: so is the Lord to her mind, in His unchanging lucidity.
Bogies will not scare her in the dark: bullets will not frighten her in the day.
Falsehoods tricked out as truths assail her in vain: she sees through the lie as if it were glass.
The invisible germ will not harm her: nor yet the glittering sunstroke.
A thousand fail to solve the problem, ten thousand choose the wrong turning: but she passes safely through.
He details immortal gods to attend her: upon every road where she must travel.
They take her hand at hard places: she will not stub her toes in the dark.
She may walk among lions and rattlesnakes: among dinosaurs and nurseries of lionettes.
He fills her brim full with immensity of life: he leads her to see the world's desire. ~ C.S. Lewis

I cough. "Oh, doctor. I think I'm sick I need some penis-cilin." I fake cough again into my hand. "Poor patient. What will I ever do?" He shoots me a crooked smile and I begin to pant in torturous anticipation. ~ S.K. Logsdon

Son of a f**king whore," Avasarala said, loud enough to cut through the background buzz of conversations.
The crowd turned to her. She was looking at her hand terminal.
"What's a whore, Daddy?"
"It's a kind of frost, honey," Prax said. "What's going on? ~ James S.A. Corey

But whence came this curious difference between them? He found that he could point to no single feature wherein the difference resided, yet it was impossible to ignore. One could try - Ransom has tried a hundred times - to put it into words. He has said that Malacandra was like rhythm and Perelandra like melody. He has said that Malacandra affected him like a quantitative, Perelandra like an accentual, metre. He thinks that the first held in his hand something like a spear, but the hands of the other were open, with the palms towards him. But I don't know that any of these attempts has helped me much. At all events what Ransom saw at that moment was the real meaning of gender. ~ C.S. Lewis

Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find until after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others do the same. ~ C.S. Lewis

Sunday: this satisfied procession
Of definite Sunday faces;
Bonnets, silk hats, and conscious graces
In repetition that displaces
Your mental self-possession
By this unwarranted digression.
Evening, lights, and tea!
Children and cats in the alley;
Dejection unable to rally
Against this dull conspiracy.
And Life, a little bald and gray,
Languid, fastidious, and bland,
Waits, hat and gloves in hand,
Punctilious of tie and suit
(Somewhat impatient of delay)
On the doorstep of the Absolute. ~ T. S. Eliot

He could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

A fighter should not think only of his shete, just because he has a shete in his hand. Everything is a weapon in the warrior's mind. ~ S.M. Stirling

I Promise You
A message of hope from a wonderful Mother

I am here to walk you
Through this journey called life
I will look after you
Until you can do so on your own
I know you need my help for now
Yes, I assure you my lovely one
I shall hold your hand no matter what
And stand by you, even in the darkest night
Will ensure your days are bright

Indeed, the Earth can be so rough
Just like the ocean changes its tide
Fear not, for I will be on your side
With you, I will fly high
Until we go to the skies
And touch the shining stars
I will not let my scars
Stop me from being kind
To you my precious child

I will be there
Until the end
I promise you! ~ Gift Gugu Mona

In the moment when he died at my hand he had his own heart's desire - not the actual future, but a hope for the best possible future, one that he could not himself imagine. ~ Dexter Palmer

And the good, good people of the small town of Golgotha, many of them, when they saw the Stained, saw what they did to those they caught up to; they forgot to love their neighbor, forgot to lend a helping hand, forgot to do unto others as they would have them do unto themselves. They ran, ran like animals frightened by the storm. Pushing, shoving, the weak, the innocent, the frail, all falling under their feet. Many of the souls Golgotha called, called to across the desert, across the plains and the oceans and the night sky, many of them were not good people. ~ R.S. Belcher

My palm connected with the final looking-glass. A wave of brittle fractures rippled outward from the place my sanguine hand had struck. It shattered. I watched the pieces of my former life
the reflection of this monster I'd become - fall about my feet in a hailstorm of blood, tears, and broken mirrors. My attrition was complete. And now dissension boiled in my veins. I would find my penance. Even if God could not forgive me, even if she could not forgive me ... maybe I could at least find the power to forgive myself. ~ S.G. Night

I was a tomboy as a kid - I was skinny and had cropped hair and was often mistaken for a boy - and up until I was about six, I had my own very fluid ideas of gender in that I believed that, somehow, an individual could choose whether or not s/he wanted to be a boy or a girl. ~ Elizabeth Hand

How often we neglect, ignore, overlook, or simply miss the presence of our loving God. We often look for Him in the great rolling thunder when, more often than not, He comes in gentle whispers . . . in the soft cooing of a baby, through the touch of a loved one's hand, in the warm embrace of a trusted friend, in the pitter-patter of a sudden summer shower on a tin roof, or with the cool touch of an evening breeze on an Autumn night. Through hundreds of ways, God whispers, "I love you and I am always with you." Don't miss Him or His presence as you go through this day. Open your eyes of faith and look for Him in the most simple of ways. The experience can be extraordinary and life-changing! ~ Ron Lambros

The Devil's Rose

You would never take a rose from a beast.
If his callous hand were to hold out a scarlet flower, his grip unaffected by pricking thorns, you would shrink from the gift and refuse it. I know that is what you would do.

But the cunning beast will have his beauty.

He hunts not in hopeless pursuit, for fear would have you sprint all the day long. Thus, he turns toward the shadows and clutches the rosebud, crunching and twisting until every delicate petal is detached. One falls not far from your feet, and you notice the red spot in the snow.

The color sparkles in the sunlight, catching your curious eye. No beast stands in sight; there is nothing to fear, so you dare retrieve the lone petal. The touch of temptation is velvet against your thumb. It carries a scent you bring to your nose, and both eyes close to float on a cloud of perfume.

As your lashes lift, another scarlet drop stains the snow at a near distance. A glance around perceives no danger, and so your footprints scar the snowflakes to retrieve another rosy leaflet as soft and sweet as the first. Your eyes shine with flecks of golden greed at the discovery of more discarded petals, and you blame the wind for scattering them mere footprints apart. All you want is a few, so you step and snatch, step and snatch, step and snatch.

Soon, there is enough velvet to rub against your cheek like a silken kerchief. Your collection of one-plus ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

I held my breath, and refused to blink; he placed his hand on the bed to brace himself as he leaned towards me. Slowly, carefully, his lips
soft, warm, and perfect
found their way to mine. I want to say that it was magical, that I saw rainbows and fairy dust or something fantastic like that, but I couldn't. It was more. Much more.
It was as though the world has fallen down around us, and everything was frozen in ice. But I wasn't cold. I was blazing hot, the fire starting where our lips joined, where angel met mortal, and I could feel the flames flickering out towards the limbs that I was fighting with desperately to keep still, not wanting them to latch onto him, not wanting to seem out of control because at that moment, I would have given anything to be just that. ~ S.L. Naeole

The living thing is not the clay molded by the potter, nor the harp played upon by the musician. It is the clay modeling itself. ~ E.S. Russell

They collapsed into each other, and although it would be indelicate to detail what happened next, these narrators will tell you that a "very special hug" does not begin to describe it. P.S. They totally consummated. ~ Cynthia Hand

We wait, we wait,
And the saints and martyrs wait, for those who shall be martyrs and saints.
Destiny waits in the hand of God, shaping the still unshapen:
I have seen these things in a shaft of sunlight.
Destiny waits in the hand of God, not in the hands of statesmen
Who do, some well, some ill, planning and guessing,
Having their aims which turn in their hands in the pattern of time. ~ T. S. Eliot

On the one hand, nature enriches our soul with its eternal beauty, on the other hand, it enriches our survival skills with its endless disasters! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

He became aware of a man drawn
alongside them, frozen in stillness even
in the midst of battle, and
knew that what had just happened had
been seen, and overheard.
He turned, the truth on his face. Stripped
bare, he could not hide himself in that
moment. Laurent, he thought, and lifted
his gaze to meet the eyes of the man who
had witnessed the last words of Lord
Touars.
It wasn't Laurent. It was Jord.
He was staring at Damen in horror, his
sword lax in his hand. ~ C.S. Pacat

He palmed his cock and rubbed along the piercings first, pulling them just enough to make him throb. He hissed at the pain and then fought a groan as he imagined Prophet doing this to him . . . The glass door opened, the steam rushed out, and Prophet stood there, watching. Before Tom could say anything, Prophet ordered, "Don't stop now - jerk yourself, since you can't keep your hands off it." "Since when do you fucking tell me what to do?" Tom demanded crankily. Of course, he kept on sliding his hand up and down his cock, partly because fuck, it was good - better when ordered, sure - and partly because the look in Prophet's eyes as he watched Tom doing it was just . . . Fuck. Fuck yes. "Don't come though," Prophet told him casually, and look who had a second wind. "Until when?" Tom gritted his teeth and slowed himself down. "Until I say. Clear enough?" Tom ~ S.E. Jakes

I wished I could take her to the library and hand her over to the librarians. Please teach her about everything, I'd say. ~ A.S. King

Selfish little flower dancing beneath flames do you dare drift in this wind alongside me? Take my hand and let us see skies untouched by night. You are not alone. Never have, and never will be. Death is only the beginning, but our breath shall reign forever. ~ H.S. Crow

[A]s if life were a thunder-storm wherein you can see by a flash the horizon, and then cannot see your hand ... ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone,
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
And that faint hint of the absurd -
The little dogs under their feet.

Such plainness of the pre-Baroque
Hardly involves the eye, until
It meets his left-hand gauntlett, still
Clasped empty in the other, and
One sees with a sharp tender shock
His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.

They would not think to lie so long,
Such faithfulness in effigy
Was just a detail friends would see,
A sculptor's sweet commissioned grace
Thrown off in helping to prolong
The Latin names around the base.

They would not guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would change to soundless damage,
Turn the old tenantry away;
How soon succeeding eyes being
To look, not read. Rigidly, they

Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths
Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
Each summer thronged the grass. A bright
Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
Bone-littered ground. And up the paths
The endless altered people came

Washing at their identity.
Now helpless in the hollow
Of an unarmorial age, a trough
Of smoke in slow suspended skeins
Above their scrap of history,
Only an attitude remains.

Time has transfigured them into
Untruth. The s ~ Philip Larkin

He came to be very glad that he had known her, and that she had had a hand in breaking him in to life. He has known pretty women and clever ones since then,-- but never one like her, as she was in her best days. Her eyes, when they laughed for a moment into one`s own, seemed to promise a wild delight that he has not found in life. "I know where it is," they seemed to say, "I could show you! ~ Willa Cather

With each impact you tell me that my body belongs to you; that I am
yours to use, yours to punish and yours to screw. Your words are almost as
powerful as your hand. They leave me feeling breathless and desperate for
your cock. You are working me into the usual frenzy of slutty desire that
we have both come to love. If I was permitted I would tell you how much I
love you right now and how much I need this. But it's not my words which
are important at the moment. Instead I demonstrate my devotion to you in
my complete submission to your desire. ~ Felicity Brandon

The ceiling shattered, and the vacuum created yanked her into the air. Her face grazed a shard of the ceiling as it broke off. Then she was in space.

Her left hand unlatched the breather mask and slid it on while her right felt for the helmet trigger.

Her finger slipped past it, fumbled back for it.

Found it.

Pressed it. ~ G.S. Jennsen

Time slowed as metal shards enveloped her like shattered glass. None pierced her of course, but it seemed as though she might be able to reach out and pluck one from the sky.

She settled for stretching out an imagined hand, palm upturned, and letting a shard fall through it untouched like the ghost she had become. ~ G.S. Jennsen

The Christian says, 'Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or to be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that country and to help others to do the same. ~ C.S. Lewis

Do you really want to know what it's like, being a spy? Never sure to whom you're giving your allegiance, and knowing that most of your colleagues will die gruesomely, often by your hand? Fine. Let me show you. ~ Delilah S. Dawson

Kate looked like the last strand of her patience was about to snap. She took in a breath, pumping her hands into fists.

"Aaron. Go upstairs. Gather your things, or so help me, I'll–"

"What?" Aaron challenged. "You'll do what? Yell at me? Raise your hand again?" His green eyes slit with rage. "Go ahead. Maybe this time you'll actually hit me. ~ S.F. Mazhar

He caught it one-handed, set it gently back in its place.
I clenched my teeth together to keep from screaming.
The Marquis stepped to the door, opened it. "Please bring Lord Branaric here."
Then he sat down in one of the window seats and looked out as though nothing had happened. I turned my back and glared out the other window, and a long, terrible silence drained my wits entirely until the door was suddenly thrust open by an impatient hand; and there was my brother, tall, thinner than I remembered, and clean. "Mel!" he exclaimed.
"Bran," I squawked, and hurled myself into his arms.
After a moment of incoherent questions on my part, he patted my back then held me out at arm's length. "Here, Mel, what's this? You look like death's cousin! Where'd you get that black eye? And your hands--" He turned over my wrists, squinting down at the healing rope burns. "Curse it, what's toward?"
"Debegri," I managed, laughing and crying at once. "Oh, Bran, that's not the worst of it. Look at this!" I stuck out my bare foot to show the purple scars. "That horrid trap--"
"We pulled 'em all out," he said, and grimaced. "It was the Hill Folk sent someone to tell us about you--that's a first, and did it scare me!--but by the time we got down the mountain, you were gone. I'm sorry, Mel. You were right."
"I was s-s-s-stupid. I got caught, and now we're both in trouble," I wailed into his shoulder.
The carved door snicked shut, and I realized we were al ~ Sherwood Smith

Death Race was a very modern action movie and it used all of those modern action techniques with lots of hand-held camera, lots of punchy zooms, and lots of quick movements and quick cuts. In 3D, I didn't want to do that anymore. ~ Paul W. S. Anderson

The true rose, the miracle of nature, owed nothing to the hand of man. ~ Iris Murdoch