Quotes About Fingers

I walked back across the road straight past him, fumbling in my bag for my keys. Why did fingers always turn into cocktail sausages at moments of stress?

The short, fat fingers moved like dancing sausages across the strings;

It tells of a golden spaceship that came from the stars; in it came a woman, whose name was Oryana, to fulfill the task of becoming the Great Mother of the earth. Oryana had only four fingers, which were webbed. Great Mother Oryana gave birth to seventy earth children, then she returned to the stars.

I don't like my bacon sandwich to be curiously snuffling at my fingers. But sometimes being police means holding your breath and fondling a pig.

His fingers tugged at the towel. I held tight to it, hard as a dishrag on my breasts, and shook my head. What's this? he whispered into my ear. This is the unforgiving light of morning, I whispered back. Time to drop the illusion. What illusion? That anything can be okay, I said, and kissed his cheek.

Women get consumed. Not surprising, considering the sheer amount of traffic a woman's body experiences. Tampons and speculums. Cocks, fingers, vibrators and more, between the legs, from behind, in the mouth. Men love to put things inside women, don't they?

The moon bathed his naked figure in light as his fingers reached to touch the stars, his hair streaming.

Oliver reached out to lift the skull with careful fingers. It was light, lighter than the repository of a man's intellect, personality, and memories ought to be, thought Oliver.

my sister and I want to laugh out loud. She stands in her kitchen pouring a really good chardonnay. Her wrists, like her ankles, are perfect. Her fingers slender and adorned with the Tiff—the rock on a platinum

As far as people, I've always loved Tony Iommi's sound, just the grittiness that was in that era of metal where it wasn't too fuzzy, and you could still hear the guitar and the fingers, but it still had this chunky, meat-and-potatoes sound to it.

I have an independent record label called Favored Nations on which I released an album by an artist called Johnny A, who plays an arch top Gibson through a Marshall, but the tone is all in his fingers.

with the yellow fingers from the coffin nails they smoked

She found half of a sea biscuit and offered it to Sus. The young girl held it between two fingers and licked a corner. "It tastes like dirt." "And how would you know?" Felissa said, putting her fists on her hips. "You eat dirt often, do you? Snacking on mud pies when our backs are turned?" "It tastes how dirt smells," Sus said.

All the muscles of the palms had been carefully cut from the bones, doubling the length of the fingers, and Sandoz's hands reminded John of childhood Halloween skeletons.

From the complications of loving you I think there is no end or return. No answer, no coming out of it. Which is the only way to love, isn't it? This isn't a play ground, this is earth, our heaven, for a while. Therefore I have given precedence to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods that hold you in the center of my world. And I say to my body: grow thinner still. And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song. And I say to my heart: rave on.

He was usually her companion in avoiding things, but tonight he was letting her down. His fingers hadn't stopped moving all night.

pinching my swollen fingers in between. Despite a lack of natural ability, I did have the one element necessary to all early creativity: naïveté, that fabulous quality that keeps you from knowing just how unsuited you are for what you are about to do.

And after his unparsable response, including a passage where he said he was 'blurring the boundaries between a thing and thought,' she said, 'Thank you, I get lost sometimes,' while laying two fingers on his folded arm.

But hands are sacred things. Touch is personal, fingers of love, feelers of blind eyes, tongues of those who cannot talk.

We must not touch our idols; the gilt sticks to our fingers. They

Overwhelmed with sensation, Corliss closed her eyes. She felt the soft flax of his hair between her fingers, felt the heat of his breath through the thin silk covering her breast. Her melancholy, so bleak and suffocating, had evaporated almost completely, like nighttime fog burned off by the hot morning sun.

Science is one thing, wisdom is another. Science is an edged tool, with which men play like children, and cut their own fingers.

Children are like fingers. No matter which finger you bite, it hurts.

There will be children here tomorrow," Nate said. "Children. With their little child fingers." "Child fingers?" "I'm saying we won't be safe anymore. This other counselor better stop being sick really quick.