Quotes About Touch

Be the night. Not the wind that stirs the trees, not even the soundless owl a-wing or the tiny mouse crouched motionless. Be the night that flows over all, touching without being felt. For night is a cat.

his touch sketched the window of her freedom as she danced.

...Science and mathematics Run parallel to reality, they symbolize it, they squint at it, They never touch it: consider what an explosion Would rock the bones of men into little white fragments and unsky the world If any mind for a moment touch truth.

He didn't know why she was standing so close , much less touching him, but he didn't have time to worry about it.

To his surprise, Jean kissed him. So often in the past, teasing, she had said she would, one day. Now she did, and it was a quick and fragrant touch to his lips that gave him courage and, even before he started out made him yearn to come back home.

Now he became aware of an entirely new sensation: pinpricks? No, because they were soft and without pain. Tiny, cold, featherlike feelings peppered his body and face. He put out his tongue again, and caught one of the dots of cold upon it. It disappeared from his awareness instantly; but he caught another, and another. The sensation made him smile.

His fingers slid gently along her ribs. It was only in her imagination that they left a trail of rainbow light.

You touch everyone, Emily. You touch a father's heart. A stranger's loyalty, and the soul I never knew I had. You touch it, and you remind us of all the innocence we've lost in the world. - Kell Krieger

She stared up at him and for an instant his expression went soft all over her before he turned away, gritting his teeth. Dean felt her gentle touch everywhere, in places he'd never thought about before. Like his heart.

foolish,' even though I didn't want to touch

The bark on the tree was just a little softer.

For, as quick to hear her sobbing as she had been to hear her sister's faintest whisper, her mother came to comfort her, not with words only, but the patient tenderness that soothes by a touch, tears that were mute reminders of a greater grief than Jo's, and broken whispers, more eloquent than prayers, because hopeful resignation went hand-in-hand with natural sorrow.

Something Rich and Strange She was less of what she had been, the blue rubbed from her eyes, flesh freed from the chandelier of bone. He touched what once had been a hand. The river whispered to him that it would not be long now.

He brushes my cheek, wiping a tear. From the soul or whatever indefinable part of you makes you Annie. I like that part. The pad of his thumb circles my cheekbone, and I can't take my eyes off his.

I have heard now and again of such a thing, but never in our Pack or in my time, said Father Wolf. He is altogether without hair, and I could kill him with a touch of my foot. But see, he looks up and is not afraid.

Handwriting, by contrast, resists the eye, reveals its meaning slowly, and is as intimate as skin.

If you have the soul of a gardener, not for anything would you work with gloves on.

We are loved by an unending love. We are embraced by arms that find us. Even when we are hidden from ourselves. We are touched by fingers that soothe us. Even when we are too proud for soothing. We are counseled by voices that guide us. Even when we are too embittered to hear. We are loved by an unending love.

When he sipped the champagne she teased him, surely gods should not partake of alcohol, and he answered with a line he had once read in an interview with the Aga Khan, O, you know, this champagne is only for outward show, the moment it touches my lips it turns to water. After that it didn't take long for her to touch his lips and deliquesce into his arms.

The X-Games - I watch that; I'm not impressed. That's white dudes' desperation. They're running out of sports. They gotta find something that black dudes won't touch.

The success of my comedy has been not being afraid to touch on subject matters or issues that everyone else is politically scared of.

Moral wounds have the peculiarity that they are invisible, but do not close: always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain tender and open in the heart.

Moral wounds have the peculiarity that they are invisible, but do not close: always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain tender and open in the heart. When

Nici unul nici altul îns? nu putea rosti o vorb?; p?rul unuia atingea fruntea celuilalt, r?suflarea amândurora se f?cuse una, mâinile le ardeau strâns înl?nÈ›uite.