Home > Topic > Their hands
101 " Whatever is in your hands, you keep that in perfect condition; then what is beyond you will anyway happen. But people are always trying to work at what is beyond them, not taking care of what is in their hands. "
― Sadhguru , Of Mystics & Mistakes
102 " Create a good idea and leave it in the darkness; you will then see that people will come with the candles in their hands to find it, because just like the bad, the good has also a special scent! "
103 " Lyndon Johnson knew how to make the most of such enthusiasm and how to play on it and intensify it. He wanted his audience to become involved. He wanted their hands up in the air. And having been a schoolteacher he knew how to get their hands up. He began, in his speeches, to ask questions. "
― Robert A. Caro , Means of Ascent
104 " What was the power that induced strong soldiers to put off their jackets and shirts, and present their hands to be tied up, and tortured for hours, it might be, under the scourge, with an air of ready volition? The moral coercion of despair; the result of an unconscious calculation of chances that satisfies them that it is ultimately better to do all that, bad as it is, than try the alternative. These unconscious calculations are going on every day with each of us, and the results embody themselves in our lives; and no one knows that there has been a process and a balance struck, and that what they see, and very likely blame, is by the fiat of an invisible but quite irresistible power. "
― J. Sheridan Le Fanu , The Haunted Baronet and Others: Ghost Stories 1861-70
105 " If they will only hold their hands until the season is over, he promises them a royal carnival, when all grudges can he settled and the survivors may toss the non-survivors overboard and arrange a story as to how the missing men were lost at sea. "
― Jack London , The Sea Wolf
106 " There is always a man eager to explain my mental illness to me. They all do it so confidently, motioning to their Hemingway and Bukowski bookshelf as they compare my depression to their late-night loneliness. There is always someone that rejected them that they equate their sadness to and a bottle of gin (or a song playing, or a movie) close by that they refer to as their cure. Somehow, every soft confession of my Crazy that I hand to them turns into them pulling out pieces of themselves to prove how it really is in my head.So many dudes I’ve dated have faces like doctors ready to institutionalize and love my crazy (but only on Friday nights.)They tell their friends about my impulsive decision making and how I “get them” more than anyone they’ve ever met but leave out my staring off in silence for hours and the self-inflicted bruises on my cheeks.None of them want to acknowledge a crazy they can’t cure.They want a crazy that fits well into a trope and gives them a chance to play Hero. And they always love a Crazy that provides them material to write about.Truth is they love me best as a cigarette cloud of impossibility, with my lipstick applied perfectly and my Crazy only being pulled out when their life needs a little spice.They don’t want me dirty, having not left my bed for days. Not diseased. Not real.So they invite me over when they’re going through writer’s block but don’t answer my calls during breakdowns. They tell me I look beautiful when I’m crying then stick their hands in-between my thighs. They mistake my silence for listening to them attentively and say my quiet mouth understands them like no one else has.These men love my good dead hollowness. Because it means less of a fighting personality for them to force out. And is so much easier to fill someone who has already given up with themselves. "
― Lora Mathis
107 " You're reaching outAnd no one hears you cryYou're freaking out again'Cause all your fearsRemind you another dream has come undoneYou feel so small and lost like you're the only oneYou wanna scream 'cause you'reDesperateYou want somebody, just anybodyTo lay their hands on your soul tonightYou want a reason to keep believin'That someday you're gonna see the lightYou're in the darkThere's no one left to callAnd sleep's your only friendWell even sleepCan't hide you from all those tearsAnd all the pain and all the daysYou wasted pushin' them awayIt's your life, it's time you face it "
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108 " Did you ever ask yourself if each one of us pursued a high educational degree, who would do the skilled manual work? Craftsmanship may not earn us the money we want but that does not mean we should scorn on anyone doing it. We are obliged to be respectful and grateful to anyone using their hands to clean our households, trim our hedges,carpentry our furniture, farm our food, crafts the objects we collect and gift, style our hairs, etc. Next time you encounter a crafts person acknowledge their manual competence. "
― Gloria D. Gonsalves
109 " No one washes their hands after they piss unless they’re in a public place. If I’m at the airport, or a restaurant, and someone else is there, I’ll soap up for the sake of civilization, but it’s only for show, I don’t really care if I have ultraviolet traces of urine or feces on my hands. But, if I see someone walk oudda the men’s without soaping up I’ll think he’s deranged, borderline psychotic. At least pretend that washing your hands matters. You know, for the sake of civilization. "
110 " You should really be more careful who you let put their hands on you.” A silky male voice hummed as hot, minty breath wafted around her ear and danced slowly across her nose. Sera inhaled deeply, her skin prickled with goose bumps. "
― Flora Roberts , Second Time Around
111 " Maybe we should put the shoot on hold.” As if he read her mind.“Maybe we should.” She said the words because that was what she was supposed to say. They were both going to have their hands full with the PR nightmare it was going to produce, and it was the smart thing to do. The prudent thing, protecting her heart and all that. But inside she was screaming. No. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I’ll never see you again. "
112 " On one side of his brain, logic was standing on a chair, waving its arms to get his attention. On the other side, lust and yearning rubbed their hands together in unholy anticipation. "
― Joanna Shupe , The Lady Hellion (Wicked Deceptions, #3)
113 " A bunch of Angels waving their hands at someone, giving them extraordinary and miraculous abilities, doesn’t make anyone holy,” Satan said. “Holiness has to be earned, and it is earned in this world of pain and woe, not in the world of spirit. Define holiness by your faith and your deeds, not by your tricks, and you can save yourself from the damnation you fall toward.” satan "
114 " When I spoke to a colleague about Joe's report, her face registered surprise. She said, " Is it possible for a death in a nursing home to be premature?" Joe told me, " If it were happening in any other kind of institution, to any other part of the population - workers, say, or children - there'd be an outcry, media, inquiries, swift intervention. The truth is we do not value the last months or years of a person's life. The remaining life of someone old. Particularly if they are in residential care." If we are all just economic units who lift or lean, then very little is " lost" when a nursing home resident or anyone getting on in their years dies prematurely. In fact money might be saved - one less nursing-home bed to fund, and the kids can finally get their hands on the house. "
115 " Forgetting himself for a moment, Francis brought his hand out from under his frock in order to bless the multitude. When the people saw his wound they bellowed madly. The women dashed forward with mantles outstretched to catch the drops; the men thrust in their hands and anointed their faces with blood. The villagers' expressions grew savage, and so did their souls. They longed to be able to tear the Saint limb from limb in order for each of them to claim a mouthful of his flesh, for they wanted to make him their own, to have him enter them so that they could become one with a saint—could be sanctified. Blind rage had overpowered them; their eyes were leaden, their lips ringed with froth. "
― Nikos Kazantzakis , Saint Francis
116 " I stumbled into the living room, and Thomas handed me a bottle of whiskey. They all had some in a glass" You told them?" I asked Trenton, my voice broken. Trenton nodded.I collapsed to my knees, and my brothers surrounded me, placing their hands on my head and shoulders for support. "
117 " It was why no sane cat allowed kits to come anywhere near human beings. Humans seemed to feel that it was perfectly acceptable to teach kits to accept food from their hands as a matter of course, rather than teaching them the importance of hunting skill and self-reliance. "
― Jim Butcher , The Aeronaut's Windlass (The Cinder Spires, #1)
118 " He extended his hand, and one by one, everyone put their hands on top of his as a show of unity. "