Quotes About Touch

Brawne set her hand on the thing's broad chest and pushed. The

To stop staring at you, I kept fiddling with the sugar until you stopped my hand with yours.

Drei deiner Finger kitzelten mich kurz, mitten am Bauch, dort, wo die Schmetterlinge leben.

It was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together … and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home. .. only to no home I'd ever known … I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like … magic.

We wanted to touch them with our action.

In the absence of touching and being touched, people of all ages can sicken and grow touched starved. Touch seems to be as essential as sunlight.

I've lost touch with a lot of that boutique-type music just because of my age, and raising my son and the multiple jobs I have at this point.

Sleeping. Turning in turn like planets rotating in their midnight meadow: a touch is enough to let us know we're not alone in the universe, even in sleep.

move him into the sun- gently its touch awoke him once

Sympathies that lie too deep for words, too deep almost for thoughts, are touched, at such times, by other charms than those which the senses feel and which the resources of expression can realise.

Only her eyes seem to move. It's like they touch us, not with sight or sense, but like the stream from a hose touches you, the stream at the instant of impact as dissociated from the nozzle as though it had never been there.

When he touched me I died.

Perhaps he was conscious of somewhere within him the two severed wireends of volition and sentience lying, not touching now, waiting to touch, to knit anew so that he could move.

Moreover, something is or seems       That touches me with mystic gleams,       Like glimpses of forgotten dreams—      Of something felt, like something here;       Of something done, I know not where;       Such as no language may declare.[228]

What had touched me sent me not into mindless silence but into a dream arena, where I was quarry.

I think there's something quite interesting about the almost tragic quality of a lot of overwrought prose, because it has a much more self-conscious awareness of its own failure to touch the real.

MY STRANGE GIFT WITH plants was a mystery to me. Perhaps it was because, like them, I was earth-born. Maybe for the same reason, when I touched a plant, I knew its healing properties.

I wanted to tell you that I was so sad I felt as if I might be happy, or in love, simply because such powerful feelings can appear the same to the naive. I was mighty with grief, and I thought I should be empowered by it. I thought my hands should shine with a yellow light, and that should I reach out to touch our mother on the head, I would call her back from the place she'd gone.

One didn't understand, until one had seen a great many bodies, the unconscious effort that one must be making every minute simply to keep one's hands and face and clothes clean. The world's surfaces were so filthy that the living touched them only with the tips of their fingers and the soles of their shoes. How grubby it was to die, to give up making that effort.

He reached out a hand behind the headrest of his seat and Kate took it, and they squeezed. The pressure created a fixed point in time, to which so many accelerating events could be anchored.

My hand feels flatter than a pancake

I mean, if all we are is bundles of energy... what is a 'hug' anyway?... and how can we ever really touch each other?

Dammi un bacio" disse Rita. Stranamente commosso, Manfred avvolse il suo viso con le sue grandi mani calde e la baciò. "Stiamo bene insieme, noi due" disse lei piano, mentre si guardavano. "Le tue mani sono proprio fatte per me. E anche la bocca.

Wo ein Messer einmal tief ins Fleisch geschnitten hat, tut die Berührung durch eine Feder weh.