Zabban Holding Quotes

His hand lay across my stomach as he slept soundly. I entwined my fingers with his and breathed through the warmth that seeped through my chest. Such a simple, sweet thing to do, yet holding hands in bed was incredibly intimate. ~ N.R. Walker

When we entered a classroom we always tossed our caps on the floor, to free our hands; as soon as we crossed the threshold we would throw them under the bench so hard that they struck the wall and raised a cloud of dust; this was "the way it should be done."

But the new boy either failed to notice this maneuver or was too shy to perform it himself, for he was still holding his cap on his lap at the end of the prayer. It was a head-gear of composite nature, combining elements of the busby, the lancer cap, the round hat, the otter-skin cap and the cotton nightcap--one of those wretched things whose mute ugliness has great depths of expression, like an idiot's face. Egg-shaped and stiffened by whalebone, it began with three rounded bands, followed by alternating diamond-shaped patches of velvet and rabbit fur separated by a red stripe, and finally there was a kind of bag terminating in a cardboard-lined polygon covered with complicated braid. A network of gold wire was attached to the top of this polygon by a long, extremely thin cord, forming a kind of tassel. The cap was new; its visor was shiny.

"Stand up," said the teacher.

He stood up; his cap fell. The whole class began to laugh.

He bent down and picked it up. A boy beside him knocked it down again with his elbow; he picked it up once again.

"Will you please put your helmet away?" said the teacher, a witty man. ~ Gustave Flaubert

U. S. A. is the slice of a continent. U. S. A. is a group of holding companies, some aggregations of trade unions, a set of laws bound in calf, a radio network, a chain of moving picture theatres, a column of stockquotations rubbed out and written in by a Western Union boy on a blackboard, a public-library full of old newspapers and dogeared historybooks with protests scrawled on the margins in pencil. U. S. A. is the world's greatest rivervalley fringed with mountains and hills, U. S. A. is a set of bigmouthed officials with too many bankaccounts. U. S. A. is a lot of men buried in their uniforms in Arlington Cemetery. U. S. A. is the letters at the end of an address when you ~ John Dos Passos

Where are you going?" Millie whispered, although why she was whispering was a bit of a mystery since the sound of yelling, along with a lot of cursing, was flowing into the house. "I'm not just going to sit here while everyone else is fighting my battle." She made it all the way to the door, crawling on her stomach, no less, before she was forced to stop when she encountered a pair of shoes. They were nice shoes, a little dusty, and unfortunately, they belonged to none other than Bram. "You weren't trying to sneak out to help, were you?" he asked, squatting down next to her. "I might have been." "There's no need. Silas has been secured." Lucetta frowned. "He came down here on his own?" Holding out a hand, Bram helped her to her feet before he smiled. "Apparently, yes. I imagine those women he hired weren't too keen to travel the country with him. Aiding and abetting men on the run usually results in a stint behind bars, and they must have decided he wasn't worth that." "I ~ Jen Turano

I told you once before," I said, the words husky from remembrance. "Everyone holds their sins close to their skin."
Fangs gleamed for an instant before Vlad bit into his wrist, pooling up two deep crimson holes.
"Then come," he said, holding it out. "And taste mine. ~ Jeaniene Frost

Besides holding our hearts together through long periods of separation, it had the effect of making us tolerant of each other's yarns
and even convictions. ~ Joseph Conrad

When I was a kid I think the thing I remembered most about The Exorcist was Linda Blair being possessed by the devil, and how scary that was. It had a lot of parallels for me because the movie was challenging different ideas about faith and it was looking at religion in a darker way. Growing up I was afraid of being possessed by the devil, as an adult I'm afraid of being possessed by the world, by ignorance, and not holding on to my beliefs and what I feel strongly about. ~ Marilyn Manson

The only person who's ever really hurt me is you. And I keep letting you."
"Ellie," he sounded in pain as he took a step toward me.
He stopped though, the pain transferring to his eyes when I moved away from him.
"I do love you," he admitted and instead of feeling joy at those words, the last piece of me holding onto hope crumbled.
I shook my head. "But not enough ~ Samantha Young

Yeah, that was the goal - to fuck Prophet so hard and well that he slept like a baby. He moved so he was chest to back, thigh to thigh, the contact like a wrestling pose. He bit down on Prophet's neck where it met his shoulder, enough to leave a mark as he entered him. Prophet hissed at the intrusion, but Tom didn't stop. A slow, smooth push through the pain would make Prophet's body yield to him. "Relax, Proph," he said, more of a demand than a request, and the tension in Prophet's shoulders dissipated as Tom held his hips, rocked against him. "Fuck. Fuck," was all Prophet said when Tom didn't give him time to recover. He didn't need it, not the way Tom had opened him, was pressing him, holding him impaled with his cock. "Tommy . . ." That's the way the man should always sound when he says Tommy. Prophet ~ S.E. Jakes

And you and me, we're . . . ?" He doesn't finish the question. He doesn't have to.
"Yeah," Hallelujah repeats. "You and me."
Jonah tilts his head so it meets hers on the pillow. They lie there, side by side, with him under the sheets and her on top of them, holding hands and touching foreheads. Jonah's eyes are closed. Just when she thinks he must have fallen asleep, he murmurs, "Stay."
"Okay."
Outside the window, clouds are rolling in over the mountains. A storm. But beyond the band of rain clouds, the sky is blue again. Bright, shining blue. The storm won't last long. And, Hallelujah realizes, sometimes you need the storm to really appreciate the sun and the blue sky.
Jonah is breathing evenly. She can feel each exhale on the side of her neck.
She smiles, and she stays. ~ Kathryn Holmes

The chain is only as strong as its weakest link, for if that fails the chain fails and the object that it has been holding up falls to the ground. ~ Thomas Reid

Having grown up in that house, there are certain lies you learned in childhood about who you believe you are, and they may be holding you back from reaching your full potential and experiencing the happiness that was meant for you. ~ Brian F. Martin

The small Japanese immortal sat cross-legged, his two swords resting flat on the ground before him. He folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes and breathing through his nose, forcing the chill night air deep into his chest. He held it for a count of five, then shaped his lips into an O and blew it out again, puncturing a tiny hole in the swirling fog before his face.
Even though he would never admit it to anyone, Niten loved this moment. He had no affection for what was to come, but this brief time, when all preparations for battle were made and there was nothing left to do but wait, when the world felt still, as if it was holding its breath, was special. This moment, when he was facing death, was when he felt completely, fully alive.
He'd still been called Miyamoto Musashi and had been a teenager when he'd first discovered the genuine beauty of the quiet moment before a fight. Every breath suddenly tasted like the finest food, every sound was distinct and divine, and even on the foulest battlefields, his eyes would be drawn to something simple and elegant: a flower, the shape of a branch, the curl of a cloud.
A hundred years ago, Aoife had given him a book as a birthday present. He hadn't had the heart to tell her that she'd missed his birthday by a month, but he had treasured the book, the first edition of The Professor by Charlotte Bronte. It included a line he had never forgotten: In the midst of life we are in death. Years later, he'd heard Ghandi tak ~ Michael Scott

Free yourself from the poisonous and laborious burden of holding a grudge. When you hold a grudge, you want someone else's sorrow to reflect your level of hurt, but the two rarely meet. Let go ... Sometimes, forgiveness is simply a reflection of loving yourself enough to move on. ~ Steve Maraboli

...somewhere in that intersection of broken hearts and shattered souls... broken is not the end of things, but the beginning. Maybe broken is what happens before you become unbroken. What's more, maybe our broken pieces don't fit us... maybe my pieces are the very pieces needed to mend you and your pieces are the very pieces needed to mend me, but until we've been broken we don't have the pieces to mend each other. Maybe in the offering we discover the meaning, and value of being broken. Maybe...somewhere on the planet is another somebody standing around holding a bag of all the jagged, painful pieces of themselves and they can't get whole without you... Maybe love, the real kind, the kind only wished for in whispers and the kind our hearts are hardwired to want, is opening up the bag of you... And what's more, they don't cost you anything. They're free. I paid for them in the breaking... And because you're desperate, and you've tried most everything else, you empty my bag across the floor... and...find the one piece you've been missing... And when you insert that piece into the puzzle that had become you, it stops the hemorrhage, and for the first time in maybe your whole life, the wound starts to heal. ~ Charles Martin

If I am capable of grasping God objectively, I do not believe, but precisely because I cannot do this I must believe. If I wish to preserve myself in faith I must constantly be intent upon holding fast the objective uncertainty so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy thousand fathoms of water, still preserving my faith. ~ Soren Kierkegaard

The drawings make you smile," he replied with a grin. "Working on the speech doesn't do anything."
That...that was so sweet, I wanted to hug him tight, kiss him, too. "Working on your speech will make me smile, too."
His brows lifted and then he flipped his notebook closed. "I know what else will make you smile."
"What? You actually doing some homework?"
"Nope." He glanced at the door again and then rose. "I think me sitting closer to you will make you smile."
The boy knew me well.
He took a step closer. "I think holding your hand will make you smile."
I straightened as I watched him.
"And I think..." He sat on the edge of the bed and twisted his body toward mine. "I think kissing you will make you smile, too. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I've been trying to stay real
and true and proud of who I am,
all those ideals of how to look
I've been trying not to care.

But I'm still holding my breath,
I 'm still watching every step.
I'm still tip-toeing away,
when I'm getting to ashamed of myself.

I don't want to be your letdown,
I'm scared like hell I'm not enough.
I don't wanna be
your failure anymore.
- The Glass Child, Letdown ~ Charlotte Eriksson

Let me grab my toothbrush and toothpaste and I'll go.
Get your eyes off my junk and you'll see that I have your toothbrush and toothpaste in my hand.
Oh shit. She raised her gaze only high enough to see, yes indeed, Chase was holding her oral hygiene supplies. ~ Lorelei James

I'm falling in love with you, Nathan."
At her words he groaned and wrapped both arms around her, holding her to his heart.
"Sweetheart, I'm right there with you. And I swear I'll catch you if you'll trust me enough to let yourself fall the rest of the way."
She smiled, kissed the center of his chest where his heart beat strong and steady beneath her lips.
"I do trust you." He'd earned her trust in giving him her heart, as well her body. ~ Kaylea Cross

True love was forever lost. The prince was never coming back to kiss me awake from my enchanted sleep. I was not a princess, after all. So what was the fairy-tale protocol for other kisses? The mundane kind that didn't break any spells?
Maybe it would be easy - like holding his hand or having his arms around me. Maybe it would feel nice. Maybe it wouldn't fell like a betrayal. Besides, who was I betraying, anyway? Just myself. ~ Stephenie Meyer

We were traveling between a mountain and Thursday,
Holding pages back on the calendar,
Remembering every turn in the roadway:
We hold that sky, we said, and remember.
So magic a time it was that I was both brave and afraid.
Some day like this might save the world. ~ William Stafford

I'll never let go of you again," she whispered. "I swear it. ~ Dianna Hardy

What had John Keats said about Negative Capability - holding two opposite ideas in one's mind at the same time without straining to reconcile them? ~ Dan Simmons

I brought my daughter today because I wanted her to know what a hero was," the woman said, holding the hand of a little girl. "And I wanted her to know girls could be heroes, too. ~ Gayle Tzemach Lemmon

Too many people never catch tomorrow as they let go of today. Capture the precious now instead of holding onto the hope of tomorrow. ~ Eric Samuel Timm

Isn't it worth missing whatever joy / you might have dreamed, to wake in the night and find / you and your beloved are holding hands in your sleep? ~ Galway Kinnell

Your king is dead. Your prince lives. . . My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I am the Queen of Terrasen. . . Your prince is in mourning. Until he is ready, this city is mine. . . If you loot, if you riot, if you cause one lick of trouble, I will find you, and I will burn you to ash." She lifted a hand, and flames danced at her fingertips. "If you revolt against your new king, if you try to take his castle, then this wall"--she gestured with her burning hand--"will turn to molten glass and flood your streets, your homes, your throats. . . I killed your king. His empire is over. Your slaves are now free people. If I catch you holding on to your slaves, if I hear of any household keeping them captive, you are dead. If I hear of you whipping a slave, or trying to sell one, you are dead. So I suggest that you tell your friends, and families, and neighbors. I suggest that you act like reasonable, intelligent people. And I suggest that you stay on your best behavior until your king is ready to greet you, at which time I swear on my crown that I will yield control of this city to him. If anyone has a problem with it, you can take it up with my court." She motioned behind her. Rowan, Aedion, and Lysandra--bloodied, battered, filthy--grinning like hellions. "Or," Aelin said, the flames winking out on her hand, "you can take it up with me."
Not a word. She wondered whether they were breathing.
But Aelin didn't care as she strode off the platform, back through the gate ~ Sarah J. Maas

Holding a book you're reading is kind of old-school. ~ Trip Adler

Well, it's like you're saving your energy for something. Holding back. But it doesn't make any sense. Life is one-way, and there is no return trip. What are you waiting for? ~ Penelope Douglas

The beginning is found in holding hope. Envision it. Envision your desires. Could it be? Could this be your future? Indeed, it can be if only you have the hope. See the truth of your dreams. The only way to begin is with a heart filled with hope for the future. ~ Avina Celeste

I think one manifestation of integrity is holding a grudge. Saying no is a little different. Holding a grudge is the modern equivalent of having standards. ~ Fran Lebowitz

But cockteasing is also a metaphor: she is someone who will manipulate your inner self while holding hers back from you. ~ Julian Barnes

If there's one thing I learned from Samson this summer, it's that holding everything in accomplishes nothing. It just causes the truth to hurt even worse in the end. ~ Colleen Hoover

I never told anyone about waking in the night to him standing over me with a knife. It was small, one of my switchblades, chosen for carving.
His seeping dick twitched as he bent toward me, his slick left hand went down on my sternum, the other holding the knife like a scapel.
"What're you gonna do?" I asked, reaching for him, my fingers closing around his hard, wet length.
"Carve my name on your skin so everyone knows you're mine. ~ Mary Calmes

Suddenly a ragged man wearing a hairnet and flip-flops walks toward us, holding a stack of pamphlets. Sophie, scared, hides behind her mother's chair. "My brother," the vagrant asks me, "have you found the Lord Jesus Christ?"
"I didn't know he was looking for me."
"Is He your personal savior?"
"You know," I say, "I'm still kind of hoping to rescue myself."
"The man shakes his head, dreadlocks like snakes. "None of us are strong enough for that," he replies, and moves on. ~ Jodi Picoult