Trembles In Hands Quotes

I have only one memory of getting here, and even that is just a single image: black ink curling around the side of a neck, the corner of a tattoo, and the gentle sway that could only mean he was carrying me.
He turns off the bathroom light and gets an ice pack from the refrigerator in the corner of the room. As he walks toward me, I consider closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep,but then our eyes meet and it's too late.
"Your hands," I croak.
"My hands are none of your concern," he replies. He rests his knee on the mattress and leans over me,slipping the ice pack under my head. Before he pulls away,I reach out to touch the cut on the side of his lip but stop when I realize what I am about to do, my hand hovering.
What do you have to lose? I ask myself. I touch my fingertips lightly to his mouth.
"Tris," he says, speaking against my fingers. "I'm all right."
"Why were you there?" I ask, letting my hand drop.
"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream."
"What did you do to them?" I say.
"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," he says. "Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you.At least,I think that's what he was trying to say."
"He's in bad shape?"
"He'll live," he replies. He adds bitterly, "In what condition, I can't say."
It isn't right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first. But white-hot triumph races through me at the thought of Drew ~ Veronica Roth

One always feels the need to wash one's hands after being forced to deal with the methods of U.S. interventionism. It is so unpleasant and filthy that one shudders. When one hears the pious nonsense of the Jewish-led world plutocracy over the radio or reads it in the press, one need only to look behind the scenes to feel pity for the miseries of mankind. That such a man has the impudence to judge us, to call on God and the world as witnesses of the purity of his deeds, to incite war and send innocent people singing "Onward Christian Soldiers" to battle for his filthy financial interests can only fill anyone with even the most primitive sense of decency with the deepest horror. Were there only such people in the world, one would have to despise humanity.

"Mr. Roosevelt Cross-Examined", 30 November 1941 ~ Joseph Goebbels

Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted

For my sake the fruit forbidden?

Must your light like mine be hidden,

Your young life like mine be wasted,

Undone in mine undoing,

And ruined in my ruin,

Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?' -

She clung about her sister,

Kissed and kissed and kissed her:

Tears once again

Refreshed her shrunken eyes,

Dropping like rain

After long sultry drouth;

Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,

She kissed and kissed her with a hungry mouth.

Her lips began to scorch,

That juice was wormwood to her tongue,

She loathed the feast:

Writhing as one possessed she leaped and sung,

Rent all her robe, and wrung Her hands in lamentable haste... ~ Christina Rossetti

We ended the day and hobbled back inside, greeted by the scent of the stew Laadan had cooked up. I went upstairs to wash the day's worth of grime off, and Aiden followed.

Once inside the room, I tossed him a coy look over my shoulder. At least, I thought it was coy, but I probably looked like I had something in my eye.

Aiden grinned nonetheless.

"Are you following me?" I asked, kicking off my boots.

He prowled forward, moving like one of those caged panthers we'd seen at the zoo. "I'm just being here for you, and I think you really need me right now."

"Ha. Ha." Out of my shoes, Aiden towered over me, I felt like a hobbit standing in front of him.

Aiden's grin spread and a dimple in his left cheek appeared. He tucked a strand of my hair back, then his hands dropped and he tugged the shirt out of my cargos. "I think you called it 'manning up'."

This wasn't the kind of manning up I'd been talking about the night before, because even with my limited knowledge of such things, he excelled in that department. But I said nothing as I stared up at him.

Lowering his head, his lips brushed over mine. I was sure I tasted of dirt and sour apple, courtesy of the Blow Pop I'd been nursing earlier, but he made this sound against my mouth, part growl and part something deeper. As the kiss deepened, like he could just devour the taste and feel, I melted against him.

"I really like your idea of ma ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Nero noticed his friends gawking. "Hey, fuckers, move your eyes to someone else."
　　"Damn, Nero, you were right. Elle is just so heartbroken." Amo couldn't hold in his laughter.
　　Nero leaned up from the car and ran his hands through his hair. He turned back to them and saw Vincent closing his eyes, whispering something.
　　"What the hell are you doing?"
　　Vincent whispered something else before he opened his eyes. "I was just thanking God for leggings. ~ Sarah Brianne

It had gone far enough, this passiveness, this acceptance, absorbing the designs of others - benign, or otherwise. It was not what he was, or would allow himself to be, under the nine heavens. Perhaps he could declare that, with two swords in his hands. ~ Guy Gavriel Kay

…though he no longer wanted to be a magician, he still had magic in his hands. I knew because when he squeezed mine, the tingle spread to my chest. It was like being in another world, safe and out of the way. ~ Dinah Jefferies

Steven's words slush together as he gets to his feet. "Crossing this one off the bucket list." Then he
unbuckles his belt and grabs the waist of his pants - yanking the suckers down to his ankles - tighty
whities and all.
Every guy in the car holds up his hands to try to block the spectacle. We groan and complain. "My
eyes! They burn!"
"Put the boa constrictor back in his cage, man."
"This is not the ass I planned on seeing tonight."
Our protests fall on deaf ears. Steven is a man on a mission. Wordlessly, he squats and shoves his lilywhite
ass out the window - mooning the gaggle of grannies in the car next to us.
I bet you thought this kind of stuff only happened in movies.
He grins while his ass blows in the wind for a good ninety seconds, ensuring optimal viewage. Then
he pulls his slacks up, turns around, and leans out the window, laughing. "Enjoying the full moon, ladies?"
Wow. Steven usually isn't the type to visually assault the elderly.
Without warning, his crazy cackling is cut off. He's silent for a beat, then I hear him choke out a single
strangled word.
"Grandma?"
Then he's diving back into the limo, his face grayish, dazed, and totally sober. He stares at the floor.
"No way that just happened."
Matthew and I look at each other hopefully, then we scramble to the window. Sure enough, in the
driver's seat of that big old Town Car is none other than Loretta P. Reinhart. Mom ~ Emma Chase

That was the day I realized that he could not cope and I could not cope and, emotionally, he could take me down with him. And I discovered in myself an awful determination not to let that happen. From that moment, I was determined to get him out of his apartment and under professional eyes, or, failing that, to protect myself. How to protect myself, I didn't know. Hire help over his objections? Take him to court and seek to have him declared incompetent? Report him to Adult Protective Services? Use my ownership of his apartment to force him out? All I knew was that, at that point, I believed myself capable of doing such things, or even of washing my hands of the situation if he would not listen to reason. I imagined telling an indignant world that I had tried my best and could do no more. You have no idea what a thing it is to have that sort of conversation with yourself about a parent. ~ Jonathan Rauch

He was irritable with Orr, who had found two crab apples somewhere and walked with them in his cheeks until Yossarian spied them there and made him take them out. Then Orr found two horse chestnuts somewhere and slipped those in until Yossarian detected them and snapped at him again to take the crab apples out of his mouth. Orr grinned and replied that they were not crab apples but horse chestnuts and that they were not in his mouth but in his hands, but Yossarian was not able to understand a single word he said because of the horse chestnuts in his mouth and made him take them out anyway. ~ Joseph Heller

It is from within, among yourselves
from cupidity, from corruption, from disappointed ambition and inordinate thirst for power
that factions will be formed and liberty endangered. It is against such designs, whatever disguise the actors may assume, that you have especially to guard yourselves. You have the highest of human trusts committed to your care. Providence has showered on this favored land blessings without number, and has chosen you as the guardians of freedom, to preserve it for the benefit of the human race. May He who holds in His hands the destinies of nations make you worthy of the favors He has bestowed and enable you, with pure hearts and pure hands and sleepless vigilance, to guard and defend to the end of time the great charge He has committed to your keeping. ~ Andrew Jackson

The best way to garden is to put on a wide-brimmed straw hat and some old clothes. And with a hoe in one hand and a cold drink in the other, tell somebody else where to dig. ~ Texas Bix Bender

I look at Colin Meads and see a great big sheep farmer who carried the ball in his hands as though it was an orange pip. ~ Bill McLaren

A too often forgotten truth is that you can live through actual events of history and completely miss the underlying reality of what's going. What history misses, the myth clearly expresses. The myth in the hands of a genius give us a clear picture of the inner import of life itself. ~ Tom Harpur

He touched the sword he had taken from the ambush. "Aside from this and the trio of juggling stones, I've nothing but the clothes on my back."
Well then, tomorrow we'll go-"
"No. Prince Ryne told me to make sure you stay in the manor."
"It's just into town to buy you a few things. Surely there won't be any danger at the market." I sensed a softening. "And we'll take along Saul or Odd."
No. We'll send one of the caregivers with a shopping list," Flea said.
"Hey, that's..."
He waited.
I huffed. "A good idea. But don't be so smug. You're not going to win every argument."
"Oh, yes, I am."
"Oh, no, you're not."
Flea straightened to his full height. When did he get so tall? He rested his hands on his hips. "I am. Prince Ryne trusted me with the task of keeping you safe. And I'm not going to disappoint him."
I crossed my arms. "You sound like Kerrick."
"Thank you."
Uh-huh. You do know I disobeyed almost all of his orders. Right?" I suppressed a grin.
"I do. But I'm smarter than Kerrick."
"You are?"
Oh, yes. I know the magic word."
"And what would that be?"
"Please. ~ Maria V. Snyder

Erlin never underestimated women, with or without swords in their hands. ~ Juliet McKenna

When liberty comes with hands dabbled in blood it is hard to shake hands with her. ~ Oscar Wilde

With my gaze on anything but Cade, I moved around the room but when Scout spotted me he trotted over. I knelt down and rubbed his ears. The silky fur between my fingers stirred memories.

Scout's tongue flicked under my chin. I leaned my head back and smiled.

"He kissed you," a little boy said. "That means he likes you."

"You think so?" I scrubbed my hands over Scout's neck.

"Yeah. Right, Cade? Dog kisses mean they like you."

I kept my eyes on Scout to avoid looking at Cade.

"Yep, means he likes her." He sat a few feet away and his words wrapped around me, his voice comforting.

Scout lifted his paw and placed it on my knee.

"What's that mean, Cade?" The little boy pointed to my leg.

"Hmm, maybe he doesn't want her to leave." I peeked over, and Cade met my gaze. "He likes her too much."

I looked away.

"Maybe he loves her," the little boy said in a singsong voice.

Without missing a beat Cade said, "Maybe he does."

The little boy broke into a fit of belly laughs, and Cade scooted closer. He poked him playfully in the side. "Hey, what's funny about that?"

"He's a dog. She's a girl."

"That's true," Cade whispered. "But a pretty one, so can you really blame him?"

The little boy giggled more. "That's silly."

Scout nudged me with his wet nose and I cupped his face. "It's okay, boy, the feeling is mutu ~ Renita Pizzitola

Very well then, Ms. Ferrars. Good luck, and godspeed. Our world is in your hands. ~ Tahereh Mafi

I grabbed the lapels of his coat, tears filling my eyes. "Don't tell me this is all happening for a reason ... Or that it's going to be okay. Don't tell me you're ready to die." ...
He met my gave, his blue eyes steady, "It's not going to be okay." He brushed hair back from my cheeks and cupped my face in his rough hands. "None of this is happening for a reason." He skimmed his lips over mine. "And Saints help me, Alina, I want to live forever."
He kissed me again, and this time, he didn't stop ~ Leigh Bardugo

My fingers padded across the bottom and paused at the corners of a small box. Carefully I pulled it out, holding it in my hands against my chest. My chest rose and fell with a sigh, and then I opened the box, wincing at the sight of the sparkling diamond ring inside. There was only one finger that belonged inside that white gold circle, and with each passing day, that dream seemed less and less possible. ~ Jamie McGuire

I spent my whole life in the private sector, 25 years in the private sector. I understand that when government takes more money out of the hands of people, it makes it more difficult for them to buy things. If they can't buy things, the economy doesn't grow. If the economy doesn't grow, we don't put Americans to work. ~ Mitt Romney

Something felt different between them as she led him to the bed. Instead of the impatient need to
have her naked that he'd always felt before, tonight he took his time undressing her. He noticed little
things he hadn't before, like the scattering of freckles across the top of her shoulders, which he kissed
as he slid the straps of her bra down her arms.
Under the covers, his hands and mouth moved slowly over her. By now, he knew what she liked,
knew all the things that had her moaning his name softly in the darkness, and when he finally eased
into her, he kept his lower body still for several moments as they kissed, wanting to simply savor the
feeling of being inside her.
And in that moment, he was pretty sure that nothing else had ever felt quite so right. ~ Julie James

Blake." Her pleas are so sweet.

"Shhh, Anne just feel it. I have you." Her nipple is so fucking perfect under my mouth.

Her body tense, she's right on the edge. One more push and she'll explode in my hands. Arching her back more, she lets her legs relax open just a little. An unconscious signal... ~ Aden Lowe

On the other hand, we worked a year on this and some people are going to watch it in a night and go, "We want more!" And there is something I miss about the longing and the anticipation for the next episode. ~ Jenji Kohan

When prosperous the fool trembles for the evil that is to come; in adversity the philosopher smiles for the good that he has had. ~ Ambrose Bierce

Vespers

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that's right.
Wasn't it fun in the bath tonight?
The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy -- I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door.
It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I'm there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember. God bless Me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed.
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers. ~ A.A. Milne

Grover cradeled his laurel sapling in his hands. Well ... sure is good to be back together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look It's our floor ~ Rick Riordan

Our bodies aren't strangers,' he said, his voice ragged. 'Our spirits aren't strangers'. He held her face in his hands. 'Tell me what part of me is stranger to you and I'll destroy that part of me.'
And she wept to hear his words. ~ Melina Marchetta

He has big hands too, I say, swigging cider. I should know. Big beautiful hands. I daresay big feet as well.
You mean that ... ? Philomena asks.
Fanny whispers in her ear, and she giggles.
I do find unclothed men interesting, I must admit.
Which one do you think has the best arse? I ask before I can stop myself. ~ Janet Mullany

Sometimes you must do things out of love
that devastate the senses.

This wasn't easy, Elymas. I know
blindness. I know how suddenly

the specks in the stones you can't see
become something you would die for.

From the way you grope this cloud of mist
I know you're trying to imagine

the color of the stars right now,
the blue-white shine that once

ignited your hands with power,
but can conjur only

the upturned bellies of poisoned frogs,
your mother's dying lips.

Don't you know how small
this life is? Even the stars

are just the sweat Christ shakes
from his brow. When you make crooked

the path to eternity, you send your brother
to oblivion, to the buried speck

in the midnight desert stone. This time,
no magic will save you. You

will have to find your life in the dark.
Today you will have to be led by the hand. ~ Tania Runyan

In 1983, NASA invited Canada to fly three payload specialists, in part because we had contributed the robotic arm that is used on the shuttle. ~ Marc Garneau

Our fates are in the hands of humanity. I don't understand that. I also don't like it." "Humans have the capacity for a great deal of love. Generosity. Kindness. Hope," she told him. "They also have the capacity for a great deal of hate. Judgment. Envy. Prejudice. And they've proven over centuries that they do not handle fear very well," he returned. She slid her hand to his jaw. "This is true, husband, but that's the stuff that gets all the attention. You've lived long but not often close to humans. Trust me, the good stuff happens far more often, but it doesn't make headlines." "I ~ Kristen Ashley

You may readily judge whether you are a child of God or a hypocrite by seeing in what direction your soul turns in seasons of severe trial. The hypocrite flies to the world and finds a sort of comfort there. But the child of God runs to his Father and expects consolation only from the Lord's hand. ~ Charles Spurgeon

Time plays no role in the life of one man - the subtle consciousness of it floating past me is more than enough. Years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds - what does it matter? Floating by, it rubs against my skin, face, and hair - wearing me down, yet polishing me all the while. Time is like fine grains of sand in a desert storm. At first, you don't pay any attention to it, but the more it hits you in the face, the more aware of it you become, the more annoying it gets until, one day, you find yourself suffocating. The weight of it eventually bends your spine, until you are crawling on your hands and knees, unable to stand straight. Then comes the time to crawl back into the womb, crawl inside and wait for rebirth. ~ Henry Martin

The fire had burned to coals and he lay looking up at the stars in their places and the hot belt of matter that ran the chord of the dark vault overhead and he put his hands on the ground at either side of him and pressed them against the earth and in that coldly burning canopy of black he slowly turned dead center to the world, all of it taut and trembling and moving enormous and alive under his hands.
What's her name? said Rawlins in the darkness.
Alejandra. Her name is Alejandra. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Jake's POV: Meanwhile, Ally was here with Marshall Moss, who she was obviously going to hook up with later. They'd barely stopped touching each other all night. Even now, they were out in the middle of the dance floor dancing to some Black Eyed Peas song. No reason to be touching for a fast song, but they were. Holding hands while they bounced around with friends.
She looked happy. Which made me want to punch someone. Preferably Marshall Moss. ~ Kieran Scott

If you want to understand the effect of weight on a horse, try running for a bus with nothing in your hands. Then try doing it with your hands full of shopping. Then think about doing that for four and a half miles. ~ Jenny Pitman

Better never to have met you in my dream, than to wake and reach for hands that are not there. ~ Otomo No Yakamochi

Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die. ~ Karl Shapiro

I agree about Shaw - he is haunted by the mystery he flouts. He is an atheist who trembles in the haunted corridor. ~ William Butler Yeats

We are not to throw away those things which can benefit our neighbor. Goods are called good because they can be used for good: they are instruments for good, in the hands of those who use them properly. ~ Clement Of Alexandria

Let the whole Earth be filled with his Glory! Thus the LORD was pleased to smite our Enemies in the hinder Parts, and to give us their Land for an Inheritance: Who remembred us in our low Estate, and redeemed us out of our Enemies Hands: Let us therefore praise the LORD for his Goodness and his wonderful Works to the Children of Men! ~ John Mason

Richard occasionally spoke wistfully about the works of art he'd seen at the People's Palace, in D'Hara, where he had been held captive. Growing up in Hartland, he had never before seen statues carved in marble, and certainly none carved on such a grand scale, or by such talented hands. Those works had in some ways opened his eyes to the greater world around him and had made a lasting impression on him. Who else but Richard would remember fondly the beauty he saw while held captive and being tortured? ~ Terry Goodkind

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

The cosy glow which had been enveloping the Duke became shot through by a sudden chill. It was as if he had been luxuriating in a warm shower bath, and some hidden hand had turned on the cold tap. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

Ever since I first read Midori Snyder's essay, 'The Armless Maiden and the Hero's Journey' in The Journal of Mythic Arts, I couldn't stop thinking about that particular strand of folklore and the application of its powerful themes to the lives of young women. There are many different versions of the tale from around the world, and the 'Armless Maiden' or 'Handless Maiden' are just two of the more familiar. But whatever the title, we are essentially talking about a narrative that speaks of the power of transformation – and, perhaps more significantly when writing young adult fantasy, the power of the female to transform herself. It's a rite of passage; something that mirrors the traditional journey from adolescence to adulthood.

Common motifs of the stories include – and I am simplifying pretty drastically here – the violent loss of hands or arms for the girl of the title, and their eventual re-growth as she slowly regains her autonomy and independence. In many accounts there is a halfway point in the story where a magician builds a temporary replacement pair of hands for the girl, magical hands and arms that are usually made entirely of silver. What I find interesting is that this isn't where the story ends; the gaining of silver hands simply marks the beginning of a whole new test for our heroine. ~ Karen Mahoney

It is a marble statue of a man with his children near him, and the man has such desperation on his face and the children at his feet appear to be clinging, begging him, while he gazes out toward the world with a tortured look, his hands pulling at his nouth, but his children look only at him, and when I finally saw this, I said inside myself, Oh.
I read the placard, which let me know that these children are offering themselves as food for their father, he is being starved to death in prison, and these children only want one thing - to have their father's distress disappear. They will allow him - oh, happily, happily - to eat them.
And I thought, So that guy knew. Meaning the sculptor. He knew.
And so did the poet who wrote what the sculpture has shown. He knew too. ~ Elizabeth Strout

Tobias," I say anyway. My hands shake, but not from fear this time– from anger. "Where is he? What are you doing to him?"
"I see no reason to provide that information," says Jeanine...

I make my voice flat and factual, like hers. "I see no reason to provide that information."
I hear a faint snort. Peter is covering his mouth. Jeanine glares at him, and his laughter effortlessly transforms into a coughing fit.
"Mockery is childish, Beatrice," she says. "It does not become you."
"Mockery is childish, Beatrice," I repeat in my best imitation of her voice. "It does not become you." ~ Veronica Roth