Why, I've been all over the world, I tell you, and fairly loafed and lolled in every conceivable sort of ease and luxury, but the Soul of me—the wild, restless, breathless, discontented soul of me—never sat down before in all its life—I say, until my frightened hand cuddled into his broken one. I tell you I don't pretend to explain it, I don't pretend to account for it; all I know is—that smothering there under all that horrible wreckage and everything—the instant my hand went home to his, the most absolute sense of serenity and contentment went over me.
Eleanor Hallowell AbbottSometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.
At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.
Mots clés journey communication connection touch togetherness hands connecting together touching reaching-out bond holding-hands
It's not being a woman I mind so much," she said slowly. "'Tis the way men seem to always order my life." She leaned earnestly toward him. "Your hand, Papa, has wielded a sword and cradled a child and held power over hundreds of men." She held up her own hand. "This one has far fewer adventures before it.
Barbara SamuelMots clés women feminism hands women-s-strength women-s-rights
I cannot alter the past, but the future is very much in my hands.
Mary Lydon SimonsenMots clés past future hands mary lydon simonsen
The fairies, as their custom, clapped their hands with delight over their cleverness, and they were so madly in love with the little house that they could not bear to think they had finished it.
J.M. BarrieMots clés house happy hands fairies luck london in-love finish clapping madly sad-kensington-gardens
I love the juice but I loathe sticky fingers. Clean hands, Sansa. Whatever you do, make certain your hands are clean.
George R.R. MartinMots clés hands plotting treachery clean-hands
A harp can be a dangerous as a sword, in the right hands.
George R.R. MartinMots clés lies song-lyrics hands harp truths sword
I was never very good with either my hands or feet. It always seemed to me they'd just been stuck on as an afterthought during my making. Dreams didn't translate through sports, or music, dancing, carpentry, plumbing. I was the bookish kid, more at home in the pages of a fantasy than in the room in the town on the planet.
Steve Rasnic TemMots clés books music dancing dreams fantasy childhood feet sports hands carpentry plumbing
I didn't respond to him. Couldn't speak at all. Couldn't look at his self-mutilation--not even the clean, bandaged version of it. Instead, I looked at my own rough, stained house painter's hand. They seemed more like puppets than hands. I had no feelings in it either.
Wally LambMots clés feelings hands puppet self-mutilation
Tell me again about the girl whose hands
have no color. Whose hands are completely
white. This time make them damned, or
untouched, or have her open a red umbrella
or point at some maple leaves and damned
near cry. Those hands. As freakish goes,
I wish I had a tail. Maybe then you’d know
how much I like you. It shakes me through,
damn through. It shakes me. When she carries
a peacock feather. When she touches her neck
or thighs. You’re a person. It’s not so bad.
You have hands. You are a person with hands
to hold things. Things you like. Tremendous
things. Tell me what you will hold today. I
know there is room for everything. There is no
need to be ceremonious. Tell what gets let go.
Mots clés love beauty lust hands girl beautiful white red hold grasp everybody-has-hands-almost
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