Quotes About Fingers

I love all things, not because they are passionate or sweet-smelling but because, I don't know, because this ocean is yours, and mine: these buttons and wheels and little forgotten treasures, fans upon whose feathers love has scattered its blossoms, glasses, knives and scissors -- all bear the trace of someone's fingers on their handle or surface, the trace of a distant hand lost in the depths of forgetfulness.

Su contacto tenía una fuerza tierna y los dedos de ambos se entrelazaron con tanta naturalidad que tuvo la sensación que llevaban haciéndolo toda la vida

PAHA SAPA PULLS HIS HAND BACK SHARPLY BUT NOT BEFORE HE feels the rattlesnake-strike shock of the dying Wasicun's ghost leaping into his fingers and flowing up his arm and into his chest. The boy lurches back in horror as the ghost burns its way up through his veins and bones like so much surging venom.

My esteem in this country has gone up substantially. It is very nice now that when people wave at me, they use all their fingers.

"All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar."

And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my fingers upon thee!

French pedicures make your toes look like fingers. You look grabby. French pedicures are for man thieves.

What a joy it is to feel the soft, springy earth under my feet once more, to follow grassy roads that lead to ferny brooks where I can bathe my fingers in a cataract of rippling notes, or to clamber over a stone wall into green fields that tumble and roll and climb in riotous gladness!

And may my bronze name / touch always her thousand fingers / grow brighter with her weeping / until I am fixed like a galaxy / and memorized / in her secret and fragile skies.

I use a ball pen because fountain pens are clumsy, and I get ink all over my fingers by the time I finish with it.

In most places that are rich in guitar culture, everyone uses their fingers, like in Spain or Africa. In Japan there are string instruments played that way. It is not until you get in the States that you find people using picks.

the imprint of another life, and although you can never have that life, your fingers trace the space where it might have been, and your fingers learn a kind of braille.

I don't believe that heavy strings make it all that much bigger-sounding. If anything, it can mess up your fingers, and you can get tendonitis, which is not cool.

Robby had a flamenco and folk music background. I was so enamored with watching Robby's fingers crawl across the flamenco guitar strings like a crab.

They say that memories fade with time but I don't believe that's true. You carry them with you like stones in your pocket. Sometimes when it's quiet you take them out and roll them between your fingers. Then you put them back in your pocket, safe again. You don't leave them behind.

I've started to experiment [in the studio] with texturing the canvas, building up the surface with large brushes, palette knife or fingers. I want to say more in my art.

Art is ment to travel from your heart to your head and out through your fingers...

Help, help, help, I am lost in the very deeps of the earth. Not eight feet underground but two hundred; blind already but not deaf, shuddering in the warm water, fingers burning last grip loosening; one nail, one rusty nail.

Later that day he walks back into a panelled chamber at Greenwich. It is the last day of 1530. He eases off his gloves, kidskin scented with amber. The fingers of his right hand touch the turquoise ring, settling it in place.

I wonder about death, I who may never know it. It looks much like ecstacy, the way they open their mouths as they drown, the way their fingers dig into your skin. Their eyes are wide and startled and they trash in your hands as though with an excess of passion.

My palm is smeared with gold. When I look at him, I see the remaining powder has been smudged over his cheekbones by the strike of my hand. I cant stop staring at it, cant stop thinking about the way he looked at me when he caught my fingers. That´s the only excuse I have for not noticing that hes led me back to his rooms, which are, I suppose, also mine since we´re married. Page 163

He touches my cheek lightly with his fingers. 'You- I thought-' I stare up into his eyes, puzzled by his expression. 'Are you hurt?' he asks. I shake my head. The prince turns away from me abruptly.

Fear made her sink her fingers into her bedsheets, as though she could hang on to her life before this moment if she just gripped hard enough.

All seemed to be in order. The boy had two legs, two arms, ten fingers, ten toes. Richard