Receiving Hand Quotes

The giving hand is considered powerful; the receiving hand is considered weak. It's better to give than to receive. ~ Bangambiki Habyarimana

One would give generous alms if one had the eyes to see the beauty of a cupped receiving hand. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Ant Prune was holding one of the squirrels in her hand. 'And once a day, we have ta clean their little private parts with a Q-tip, so they'll learn ta clean themselves.'
That was a visual I didn't need ~ Margaret Stohl

Brother, when beauty falls into your hand, you hold on to it while you can. You could be dead tomorrow.
Well, that's... inspiring. ~ Nora Roberts

Turning off all the lights, I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I stood in the darkness before the mirror, my hand on the light switch. I forced myself to flick it on.
In the flood of light against white tile, the face and shoulders of a strange
a fierce, bald, very dark Negro
glared at me from the glass. He in no way resembled me.
The transformation was total and shocking. I had expected to see myself disguised, but this was something else. I was imprisoned in the flesh of an utter stranger, an unsympathetic one with whom I felt no kinship. All traces of the John Griffin I had been were wiped from existence. ~ John Howard Griffin

The King walks. He nods. His glance is like God's touch - under it all things spring to life. A wave of his hand and a hundred musicians tear into the Handel, making a sound you've never heard before, and never will again. A sound that goes through you, through flesh and bone, and reorders the very beat of your heart. ~ Jennifer Donnelly

Depoliticization involves removing a political phenomenon from comprehension of its historical emergence and from a recognition of the powers that produce and contour it. No matter its particular form and mechanics, depoliticization always eschews power and history in the representation of its subject. When these two constitutive sources of social relations and political conflict are elided, an ontological naturalness or essentialism almost inevitably takes up residence in our understandings and explanations. In the case at hand, an object of tolerance analytically divested of constitution by history and power is identified as naturally and essentially different from the tolerating subject; in this difference, it appears as a natural provocation to that which tolerates it. Moreover, not merely the parties to tolerance but the very scene of tolerance is naturalized, ontologized in its constitution as produced by the problem of difference itself. ~ Wendy Brown

Sloane sauntered into the observation room like she didn't have a care in the world, and scowled when she saw the coffee cup in my hand. "I came for coffee," she said. "If you have consumed all the coffee, I am going to straight-up fucking murder you, and drink a latte out of your skull. ~ Seanan McGuire

She reached down, found his hand with hers.

Their fingers tangled, wrists pressed together.

No pulse between them. ~ Emily Lloyd-Jones

His hand lightly pressed to the small of my back, and I turned. His arm slid around me and I was brought up against him. 'You're shaking,' he said, a frown lacing his tone. 'I know.' 'We don't have to,' he said. 'I'm a patient man.' 'Are you really?' I asked, my tone slightly rueful. His white teeth flashed. 'For you I would be.' The sincerity in his voice was my undoing. 'No more talking,' I whipered.
- Romeo & Rimmel ~ Cambria Hebert

Inej turned to go. Kaz seized her hand, keeping it on the railing. He didn't look at her. "Stay," he said, his voice rough stone. "Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me."
She looked down at his gloved hand clutching hers. Everything in her wanted to say yes, but she would not settle for so little, not after all she'd been through. "What would be the point?"
He took a breath. "I want you to stay. I want you to ... I want you."
"You want me." She turned the words over. Gently, she squeezed his hand. "And how will you have me, Kaz?"
"How will you have me?" she repeated. "Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? ~ Leigh Bardugo

When you go against the flow of nature and betray the spiritual laws existing within, there is, and always will be, a negative reaction. Those who try escaping life before fate shakes their hand, will forever be stuck on earth, chained to the place they so badly wanted to leave. What a complicated misery. I guarantee you it will be torture to be invisible and ignored by those you love when you can see them - but you are already dead for them to hear you utter another word. Talk about agony, more so, than remaining on this plane and continuing your spiritual cycle as it was written to be lived. ~ Suzy Kassem

LECTURER, n. One with his hand in your pocket, his tongue in your ear and his faith in your patience. ~ Ambrose Bierce

I can hear our hearts breaking."
A tear wets my fingertips, his tears, and his other hand encases my face, the way mine does him. His lips nearly skim mine. "I'll shield your ears from the sound of heartbreak. ~ Krista Ritchie

They sat on a bench and Sproule held his wounded arm to his chest and rocked back and forth and blinked in the sun. What do you want to do? said the kid. Get a drink of water. Other than that. I dont know. You want to try and head back? To Texas? I don't know where else. We'd never make it. Well you say. I aint got no say. He was coughing again. He held his chest with his good hand and sat as if he'd get his breath. What have you got, a cold? I got consumption. Consumption? He nodded. I come out here for my health. ~ Cormac McCarthy

At the bakery it's just me. It's a small place. Just me and the raspberry horns and the tourtiere pies and my cigarette going in the ashtray near the black sink. Every once in a while a car passes through the dark street outside the storefont windows, but that's pretty much all I see of people while I'm there, until the end of my shift at eight when Monica shows up to open the store for the day. A solid twelve hours by myself, nothing but the radio to keep me company, and I like it just fine, being alone. It's even better in the winter, during a storm, when the snow piles up outside and no cars come by at all. Inside the bakery it's warm and there's plenty to keep my hands busy. Times like that, for all I can tell I'm the only person left on earth. I could go on making pies and watching the snow pile up until the end of time, so long as there was enough coffee on hand. I don't need company like some people seem to. ~ Ron Currie Jr.

He steps back, still looking. In the painting, Willem's torso is directed toward the viewer, but his face is turned to the right so that he is almost in profile, and he is leaning toward something or someone and smiling. And because he knows Willem's smiles, he knows Willem has been captured looking at something he loves, he knows Willem in that instant was happy. Willem's face and neck dominate the canvas, and although the background is suggested rather than shown, he knows that Willem is at their table; he knows it from the way JB has drawn the light and shadows on Willem's face. He has the sense that if he says Willem's name, the face in the painting will turn toward him and answer; he has the sense that if he stretches his hand out and strokes the canvas, he will feel beneath his fingertips Willem's hair, his fringe of eyelashes.

But he doesn't do this, of course, just looks up at last and sees JB smiling at him, sadly. "The title's card's been mounted already," JB says, and he goes slowly to the wall behind the painting and sees its title - Willem Listening to Jude Tell a Story, Greene Street - and he feels his breath abandon him; it feels as if his heart is made of something oozing and cold, like ground meat, and it is being squeezed inside a fist so that chunks of it are falling, plopping to the ground near his feet. ~ Hanya Yanagihara

Pornography is literature designed to be read with one hand. ~ Angela Lambert

The Keynesian world is a world in which there are two distinct classes of actors: the skilled investor, 'who, unperturbed by the prevailing pastime, continues to purchase investments on the best genuine long-term expectations he can frame', and, on the other hand, the ignorant 'game-player'. It does not seem to have occurred to Keynes that either of these two may learn from the other, and that, in particular, company directors and even the managers of investment trusts may be the wiser for learning from the market what it thinks about their actions. In this Keynesian world the managers and directors already know all about the future and have little to gain by devoting their attention to the misera plebs of the market. In fact, Keynes strongly feels that they should not! This pseudo-Platonic view of the world of high finance forms, we feel, an essential part of what Schumpeter called the 'Keynesian vision'. This view ignores progress through exchange of knowledge because the ones know all there is to be known whilst the others never learn anything. ~ Ludwig Lachmann

No!" he cried and his face pinched with frustration and pain. "I don't want to hear more reasons why we shouldn't be together. No more confessions to explain why you want to run away from what we share."
"Julian," she attempted to interrupt again, but he held up a trembling hand.
His dark gaze held hers. "I have moved heaven and earth to bring you back to me. I refuse to let you leave again. You are mine and you shall be mine for the rest of my life. Not as my mistress, but as my wife. And if you don't say yes, I shall be forced to drag you into Hyde Park and make love to you in plain view of everyone. Then you will have to accept my proposal in order to save your reputation." His face softened. "I love you, Cecilia. ~ Jess Michaels

Dear Lord, forgive me for all of the times I've compared myself to others. I know that You have hand-picked all of my qualities. Help me to see these things as beautiful reminders of Your great love in creating me as Your daughter. In Jesus' Name, Amen. ~ Lysa TerKeurst

You can trust my word," Everet said. "No one will raise a hand to punish you while you belong to me. Not me, not anyone else. ~ Kim Dare

Our focus is to continue to pioneer branded entertainment online and consider opportunities as they come. We're smart enough to know that we can't bite the hand that feeds us and neglect our Internet presence. ~ Rhett McLaughlin

Life is like a game of cards.
The hand you are dealt is determinism;
The way you play it is free will. ~ Jawaharlal Nehru

Evie: "Can we not talk?"
Jack: "But you're such a charming conversationalist. Still, if you'd prefer to simply bask in the glory of my company, I understand. You're probably overwhelmed by holding my hand and want to enjoy the moment. ~ Kiersten White

An icy slither ran up my core as I stared at my right hand, its tremors Richter scale violent. Was this my demon-killing ability? Destined to be some supernatural whore luring hell spawn into back alleys for deadly rub and tugs? ~ Deborah Wilde

Tell me about your friends."
"I hardly knew them. The one who ran off with the girl is named Christopher Columbus. Tall guy. Really skinny. Green hair. Fangs. Six fingers on his left hand. About a hundred years old. Lots of wrinkles."
"I trust you are enjoying yourself." the commander sneered. ~ Brandon Mull

When God contemplates some great work, He begins it by the hand of some poor, weak, human creature, to whom He afterwards gives aid. ~ Martin Luther

But last night - I swallowed, remembering how they looked together when I went to check on Lia during the night. I had seen his hand resting on her bed and her hand curled over his. Both of them were asleep, peaceful. I backed out of the room quietly so they wouldn't see me. Maybe that was what had given me the courage to tell her the truth. ~ Mary E. Pearson

Lalie had helped her undress, down to her sheer silk shift, and Marisa had removed even that, feeling stifled by the moist heat and the netting over her bed. She slept, but there were strange dreams hovering on the edge of her unconsciousness. She dreamed that Inez came back from the city with a stocky, red-faced man with a sheaf of papers in his hand, and that while they stood looking down at her and talking about her she tried to move and protest, but she was caught in the netting that stopped up her eyes and her mouth. The netting turned into a sea of sand under which she was buried. And somewhere above her, booted feet astride her face, she knew that Dominic stood scowling, as she remembered him last. ~ Rosemary Rogers

We have been waiting for an hour when we see a squad of German soldiers line up on the roadbed alongside the train. Next comes a column of people in civilian clothes. Surely they are Jews. All of them are rather well dressed, with suitcases in their hands as if departing peacefully on vacation. They climb aboard the train while a sergeant major keeps them moving along, "Schnell, schnell." There are men and women of all ages, even children. Among them I see one of my former students, Jeanine Crémieux. She got married in 1941 and had a baby last spring. She is holding the infant in her left arm and a suitcase in her right hand. The first step is very high above the rocky roadbed. She puts the suitcase on the step and holds on with one hand to the doorjamb, but she can't quite hoist herself up. The sergeant major comes running, hollers, and kicks her in the rear. Losing her balance, she screams as her baby falls to the ground, a pathetic little white wailing heap. I will never know if it was hurt, because my friends pulled me back and grabbed my hand just as I was about to shoot.

Today I know what hate is, real hate, and I swear to myself that these acts will be paid for. ~ Lucie Aubrac

Yeah," he grount out. "I nailed her."
"Where?" Luc always wanted the dirty details.
"Stockroom. Pay up."
Luc snorted and reached for his wallet. "I really got taken on this one , didn't I?" He handed over four hundreds and five twenties.
"Yeah, well, you can have the last laugh once the Sem brothers catch up with me. Seems she's their sister."
"Dude." Luc streched out the word and then whistled, low and long. "Nice knowing you. So, will it at least have been worth it? Being gutted by Shade, I mean. Was she good ?"
His body heated as though remembering. And wanting again.
"Of course I was."
Fuck. Con spun around to find Sin standing there, hands on hips and fury in her expression. Like a kid caught stealing candy, he whipped the money behind his back. She looked at him as if he was an idiot and grabbed his arm, briging it around.
"It's not what you think," he said lamely, because it was exactly what she thought.
"Really? So that big asshole behind you didn't bet you five hundred bucks that you couldn't fuck me ?"
"Ah..."
"That's what I thought. You dick. How stupid do you think I am ? Your name really fits you , Con." She snatched the money from him, took two hundreds and three twenties, and thrust the remaining two hundred and forty dollars back into his hand. Then, smiling broadly, she punched him in the shoulder. "Next time you make a bet like that, don't cheat me out of my half. I owe you a ten."
She winked ~ Larissa Ione

The bow in hand, he finally staggered up and glanced down the alley, obviously searching for whoever had – what had he said? – 'called' him? Though he didn't look much taller than her, the vast array of weapons – enough to fight a whole troop of French soldiers – was terrifying and slightly ridiculous. Like what a little boy might don to pretend to be some ancient warrior.

A warrior. Oh, by the Most High…

He was looking for her. Nahri was the one who had called him. ~ S.A. Chakraborty

She left quietly, closing the door behind her.
Only then did Hunter move, wandering to the portal, his large hand clasping the oval brass knob that she had just touched, searching for any remaining warmth her skin might have imparted. He leaned his cheek against the cool, glossy panel and closed his eyes. He craved her body, her sweetness, her hands on his body, her legs open to him, her throat tightening with feminine cries as he pleasured her... He shoved the thoughts away, but it was too late, he was left with a painful erection that wouldn't subside.
How long would it take for her to accept him? What the devil would she require? If only she would assign him some herculean task for him to accomplish and prove himself. 'Tell me what to do,' he thought, emitting a slight groan, 'and by God, I'll do it ten times over. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You ask for too much, Iain," she murmured. "More than I can give."
"Do I?"
Movement against her made her pause, made her stiffen as she felt him press forward, felt his body shift until his back and shoulders were pressing indecently against her belly and his head was turned, the curve of his cheek lying on her lap.
"Can you give me this, Beth? Just one moment to lie here and close my eyes, and feel you beneath me, soft and curved?"
"And what would you find?" she asked, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.
"Solace."
Closing her eyes, she bit hard on her lip, trying not to weaken against that one word. There had been no hesitation when he said it. It was as if he'd known it - what he'd desired all along, a feeling of tranquility. Peace. Rightness.
Her hand hovered over his head, her fingers itching to touch, to run her fingers through his hair, which would be damp with snow. What picture did they make, seated on this bench, a tempest of white swirling around them as he laid his head in her lap? ~ Charlotte Featherstone

Suppose two astronauts go to the moon. When they arrive, they have an accident and find out that they have only enough oxygen for two days. There is no hope of someone coming from Earth in time to rescue them. They have only two days to live. If you asked them at that moment, "What is your deepest wish?" they would answer, "To be back home walking on the beautiful planet Earth." That would be enough for them; they would not want anything else. They would not want to be the head of a large corporation, a big celebrity or president of the United States. They would not want anything except to be back on Earth - to be walking on Earth, enjoying every step, listening to the sounds of nature and holding the hand of their beloved while contemplating the moon.

We should live every day like people who have just been rescued from the moon. We are on Earth now, and we need to enjoy walking on this precious beautiful planet. The Zen master Lin Chi said, "The miracle is not to walk on water but to walk on the Earth." I cherish that teaching. I enjoy just walking, even in busy places like airports and railway stations. In walking like that, with each step caressing our Mother Earth, we can inspire other people to do the same. We can enjoy every minute of our lives. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

You're a trigger finger dug into the starting gun,
the smack as it fires, the tense stroke of hooves
pressing into a fresh track. You're the curiosity
of a flashbulb nibbling air, tricky camera lens
grabbing a mane as it quivers back. I'm a rising
overture of thighs. I'm dirt exploding midair
- sand fireworks. I'm the impulse to grab hold:
the jockey's knees clenching as he rocks above
the heaving saddle. You're the bit I can't keep
from tasting, and I, the clench of jaws, willing
to split in two for the shiver of collision, tooth
on tooth. Darling, you're a wager: the whole wad
riding on one last leap, but then you're abrupt:
an ankle's vomity pop. And I'm the entire crowd
grunting to its feet. You're one blossoming
moment of unstoppable collapse: the bracing
limbs, the beveling slide, the shriek of submission
to gravity, a hard landing. From the stands, I'm
a hush: hand to mouth. I'm needles of heat, a gut
sinking over a lost life savings. You're someone
else's carnation wreath, red as a bitemark necklace. ~ Saara Myrene Raappana

Scientists tell us that we have enough technology to save our planet ... Yet we don't take advantage of this new technology ... The technological has to work hand-in-hand with the spiritual. Our spiritual life is the element that can bring about the energies of peace, calm, brotherhood, understanding, and compassion. Without that, our planet doesn't stand a chance. ~ Nhat Hanh

The sharp knife of dawn glitters in my hand but how bare is everything-tall tall tree infinite air, the unrelaxing tension of the world and only hope, hope only, the kind eagle soars and wheels in flight. ~ Martin Carter

Never try to bear a burden of sorrow all alone when there are those who love you near at hand to share the pain! ~ Eva Roe Gaggin

She lifted her hand, slowly folded down her index, ring, and little fingers, then cheerfully flipped him the bird. Someone behind him laughed and he whirled around and bellowed out a curse. Maybe it had meant the same general thing in the Middle Ages. Or maybe it had been the look on her face. Whatever the case, she felt rather vindicated. She lowered her hand and smiled up at Richard, whose expression had darkened even more. His eyebrows had become a single, dark slash across his forehead. His scar was white. Even if she hadn't seen the blazing fury in his eyes, she would have known by his scar that he was livid. ~ Lynn Kurland

Mary was like a caged tiger in the first days of her captivity. Keen, alert, and watchful, she listened tensely each dawn for the key that unlocked her door. After breakfast she watched the road for messengers, pacing back and forth like a confined feline.
But no messengers ever came.
Elizabeth had abandoned her. Or forgotten her.
And the days passed.
Little by little, the Queen of Scots grew accustomed to her captivity. She no longer heard the key in the lock, or the footsteps outside her door. More often than not it was the maid's cheerful voice that woke her, along with the hand on Mary's shoulder and the delicious smells wafting from the breakfast tray. ~ Margaret George

Who says you cannot hold the moon in your hand?
Tonight when the stars come out and the moon rises in the velvet sky, look outside your window, then raise your hand and position your fingers around the disk of light.
There you go . . . That was easy! ~ Vera Nazarian

Paul looked down at the hand that had known pain, and then up to the Reverend Mother. The sound of her voice contained a difference than from any other voicing his experience. The words were outlined in brilliance. There was an edge to them. ~ Frank Herbert

Death and the Turtle"

I watched the turtle dwindle day by day,
Get more remote, lie limp upon my hand;
When offered food he turned his head away;
The emerald shell grew soft. Quite near the end
Those withdrawn paws stretched out to grasp
His long head in a poignant dying gesture.
It was so strangely like a human clasp,
My heart cracked for the brother creature.

I buried him, wrapped in a lettuce leaf,
The vivid eye sunk inward, a dull stone.
So this was it, the universal grief:
Each bears his own end knit up in the bone.
Where are the dead? we ask, as we hurtle
Toward the dark, part of this strange creation,
One with each limpet, leaf, and smallest turtle---
Cry out for life, cry out in desperation!

Who will remember you when I have gone,
My darling ones, or who remember me?
Only in our wild hearts the dead live on.
Yet these frail engines bound to mystery
Break the harsh turn of all creation's wheel,
for we remember China, Greece, and Rome,
Our mothers and our fathers, and we steal
From death itself its rich store, and bring it home. ~ May Sarton

I'm not going to be part of this," said Leo. He opened his hand and dropped the flowers. Fragrant, obedient, they beheaded themselves on Saina's salvaged-wood floors. ~ Jade Chang

She had just pulled her dress coat from it's hanger when Connor came bouncing out of her bedroom and down the hallway with something in his hand.
"Mommy, what's this jiggle stick?"
She looked up to see her son standing not two feet away from Reece with her purple jelly vibrator in his hand. And he was shaking it, making it waggle back and forth. ~ Pamela Clare

He looked at my mouth then he looked in my eyes then his arm and hand gave me a squeeze before he stated, Now, I think she finally fuckin' gets me. ~ Kristen Ashley

1. It is necessary for me to be extremely frugal for some time, till I have paid what I owe. 2. To endeavor to speak truth in every instance; to give nobody expectations that are not likely to be answered, but aim at sincerity in every word and action - the most amiable excellence in a rational being. 3. To apply myself industriously to whatever business I take in hand, and not divert my mind from my business by any foolish project of suddenly growing rich; for industry and patience are the surest means of plenty. 4. I resolve to speak ill of no man whatever.17 ~ Walter Isaacson

The natural world gives us many examples of the great effectiveness of this way. The Chinese philosophy of which judo itself is an expression - Taoism - drew attention to the power of water to overcome all obstacles by its gentleness and pliability. It showed how the supple willow survives the tough pine in a snowstorm, for whereas the unyielding branches of the pine accumulate snow until they crack, the springy boughs of the willow bend under its weight, drop the snow, and jump back again. If, when swimming, you are caught in a strong current, it is fatal to resist. You must swim with it and gradually edge to the side. One who falls from a height with stiff limbs will break them, but if he relaxes like a cat he will fall safely. A building without 'give' in its structure will easily collapse in storm or earthquake, and a car without the cushioning of tires and springs will soon come apart on the road. The mind has just the same powers, for it has give and can absorb shocks like water or a cushion. But this giving way to an opposing force is not at all the same thing as running away. A body of water does not run away when you push it; it simply gives at the point of the push and encloses your hand. A shock absorber does not fall down like a bowling-pin when struck; it gives, and yet stays in the same place. To run away is the only defense of something rigid against an overwhelming force. Therefore the good shock absorber has not only 'give,' but also stability or 'weight. ~ Alan W. Watts