Quotes About Fingers

The book must suffice in itself: if it please you, excellent reader, I shall be rewarded for my labor; if it please you not, I shall reward you with a snap of my fingers, and good riddance to you. -BRAZ CUBAS

Just a moment, Mrs. Whatsit murmured, and appeared to calculate rapidly upon her fingers. She nodded triumphantly. Exactly 2,379,152,497 years, 8 months and 3 days.

Fox Cap—now herself complete—sat herself down among them. Her cap was on her head, for (just as he had thought she would) she'd got it back from them. Those around her petted her and with their fingers they fed her this and that, a tiny wan thing amid their overbearing fatness.

But not even then did I lose my composure. I continued to proceed with circumspection, as I always had before the accidents of life. The only external sign of my agitation was an inclination to disorder and a weakness in my fingers, and, the more the anguish increased, the harder they found it to close solidly around things.

I thought my fireplace dead and stirred the ashes. I burned my fingers.

Pa had sent me out to get an extra pail of air. I'd just about scooped it full and most of the warmth had leaked from my fingers when I saw the thing.

That old black magic has me in its spell, That old black magic that you weave so well; Icy fingers up and down my spine, The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.

crumpet then sipped her tea. After wiping her fingers on the cloth

The alcohol smell is on my fingers, cold and remote, piercing like a steel pin going in. It smells like white enamel basins. When I look up at the stars in the nighttime, cold and white and sharp, I think they must smell like that.

The pen between my fingers is sensuous, alive almost, I can feel its power, the power of the words it contains.

Counting in octal is just likst counting in decimal--if you don't use your thumbs.

fingers of wind combed the lake into ridges—icy palm prints glistened wherever it rested

Nils might face death with equanimity, but not lameness. And because he never spoke of it, never complained, it would go harder for him than Own, who could swear freely about his missing fingers, and pity himself intensely and eloquently.

Sebastien gasped first at pain like flame, then pleasure, and somehow scraped his hand through the narrow space between David's back and the lid so he could knot his fingers into David's hair. He bit his lip, and did not cry out, while they rode in the lumpy coffin.

Through the resistance of their wardrobes, fingers brushed.

She reached into the shadows, groping toward Morgan's cottage, and felt as if her fingers brushed slick, opaque ice.

Red ran through my fingers, dripping to the white, white stone.

Maybe I was haunted, because I swear I felt a fleeting sense of contact, then, like the brush of immaterial fingers in my hair.

Curled tight as a caterpillar, his fingers laced through the bridle as if the touch of iron could ease his agony, he still flinched when the light struck his face.

It was shame that swiped across her soul, like these windshield wipers before her: two large black long fingers, relentless and rhythmic in their chastisement.

To have hands, to have fingers, is weird. Real life is weird, to have fingers?

A hidden soul seemed to be flowing forth from Rosamund's fingers, and so indeed it was, since souls live on in perpetual echoes, and to all fine expression there goes somewhere an originating activity, if it be only that of an interpreter.

Counting in octal is just like counting in decimal, if you don't use your thumbs.

They were very considerate, I must say. Every time I felt I was about to slip out of these fingers and would yell for help, they'd let me down and re-organize things.