Quotes About Touch

When small drops began to fall and darken the world in penny-shaped circles, no one around him scurried for cover. For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.

So if a Christian is touched only once a year, the touching is still worth it, and maybe on some given Christmas, some quiet morning, the touch will take.

It is through our hands that we speak to the child. That we communicate. Touch is the child's first language, understanding comes long after feeling

To gain confidence, constant practice is essential. Just as a musician needs to practice regularly to retain his touch, the watercolourist needs to be constantly in touch with the medium.

O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me: of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse.

Pain lays not its touch upon a corpse.

There are a hundred different ways to hold someone's hand. There are the ways you hold a child's hand, the ways you hold a friend's hand, the ways you hold an elderly parent's hand, the ways you hold the hands of the departing and of the dying and of the dead.

There was a little silence. She did not seem shocked; she was neither flattered nor fearful. She stood, waiting for him to take his hand off her arm, and let her go. He supposed that men desired her all the time and that she regarded a touch at her breast, a grab at her waist, as a regular inconvenience, like rain.

the smell of him and the touch of his skin, I feel my desire for him rise again and we move together.

A cut scarred where a caress faded away.

He stepped forward and took both her hands in his cool ones. For a moment, she thought he intended to kiss her, and for a panicked moment she wasn't sure if she ought to stop him, wanted to stop him…but then he just touched his forehead to hers and held it there.

The service passed in a blur of words she wasn't sure she got right, and then the cool touch of the ring sliding onto her fingers, and then the warm pressure of Shane's lips on hers.

Our fingers lie loose together, not demanding anything except the lightest possible contact. Either his or mine are trembling slightly, but I can't tell which. I only feel the motion.

My pinky finger crept over and nestled against his, for comfort. Like a magnet, his pinky finger latched onto and intertwined with mine. I like magnets a whole lot.

How can you not be concerned that I might have cancer?" I ask. "I found a lump on my breast." Touch it, Ely. Touch it. "Lie. Not only are you biting your lip, which you always do when you lie, but your mom told me about the alleged lump in the elevator this morning. The doctor said it was an overgrown pimple." Monkeys!

She sat back, lifting away her hand. The ghost of its warmth remained on Aaron's skin.

Dogs needed no words to console you. Dogs were the ultimate practitioners of the therapy of touch. Dogs knew and accepted the hard realities of life that human beings could not acknowledge until those obvious truths were exhaustively described with words, and even then there was often more bitter acknowledgment than humble acceptance.

Beneath the bleeding hands we feel / The sharp compassion of the healer's art.

Everyone says, Come to your senses, and I do, of you. Every touch electric, every taste you, every smell, even burning sugar, every cry and laugh. Toothpicked samples at the farmers' market, every melon, plum, I come undone, undone.

That world! These days it's all been erased and they've rolled it up like a scroll and put it away somewhere. Yes, I can touch it with my fingers. But where is it?

It was there. It was. The long walk down the hall. The door opening. The beautiful stranger. The torn moon mended. Our fingers touching away the tears. It was there.

And do you care for me?" He kissed her without answering "Tha mun goo, let me dust thee," he said. His hand passed over the curves of her body, firmly, without desire, but with soft, intimate knowledge.

Involuntarily, I reached out, as though I might heal him with a touch and erase the marks with my fingers.

Is it usual, what it is between us when I touch you?