#hands

I will be developing artists for my new label. The rest is in God's Hands. ↗

— Gary Wright

#developing #god #hands #i #label

I have always believed that opera is a planet where the muses work together, join hands and celebrate all the arts. ↗

— Franco Zeffirelli

#arts #believed #celebrate #hands #i

Oh, look, the lights are so pretty,” I said dreamily, having just noticed them. I smiled at the way the lights were dancing overhead, pink and yellow and blue. I felt some pressure on my arm and thought, I should look over and see what’s going on, but then the thought was gone, sliding away like Jell-O off a hot car hood. “Fang?” “Yeah. I’m here.” I struggled to focus on him. “I’m so glad you’re here.” “Yeah, I got that.” “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I peered up at him, trying to see past the too-bright lights. “You’d be fine,” he muttered. “No,” I said, suddenly struck by how unfine I would be. “I would be totally unfine. Totally.” It seemed very urgent that he understand this. Again I felt some tugging on my arm, and I really wondered what that was about. Was Ella’s mom going to start this procedure any time soon? “It’s okay. Just relax.” He sounded stiff and nervous. “Just...relax. Don’t try to talk.” “I don’t want my chip anymore,” I explained groggily, then frowned. “Actually, I never wanted that chip.” “Okay,” said Fang. “We’re taking it out.” “I just want you to hold my hand.” “I am holding your hand.” “Oh. I knew that.” I drifted off for a few minutes, barely aware of anything, but feeling Fang’s hand still in mine. “Do you have a La-Z-Boy somewhere?” I roused myself to ask, every word an effort. “Um, no,” said Ella’s voice, somewhere behind my head. “I think I would like a La-Z-Boy,” I mused, letting my eyes drift shut again. “Fang, don’t go anywhere.” “I won’t. I’m here.” “Okay. I need you here. Don’t leave me.” “I won’t.” “Fang, Fang, Fang,” I murmured, overwhelmed with emotion. “I love you. I love you sooo much.” I tried to hold out my arms to show how much, but I couldn’t move them. “Oh, jeez,” Fang said, sounding strangled. ↗

— James Patterson

#comfort #dizziness #don-t-go #friends #friendship

A human being's first responsibility is to shake hands with himself. ↗

— Henry Winkler

#first #hands #himself #human #responsibility

The women of the country have the power in their own hands, in spite of the law and the government being altogether of the male order. ↗

— Victoria Woodhull

#being #country #government #hands #law

Only with the tools of production in their own hands could the workers ever hope to control their own lives and receive the fruits of their labor. ↗

— Ella R. Bloor

#could #ever #fruits #hands #hope

The first sentence of a book is a handshake, perhaps an embrace. ↗

— Jhumpa Lahiri

#embrace #first #handshake #perhaps #sentence

The earth is rocky and full of roots; it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs, throw in a handful of poppy seeds, and cover it all over, and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel, and your hands are nicked from the rocks, your nails black with soil. ↗

— Anne Lamott

#black #bulbs #clay #cover #death

Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, and don't have any kids yourself. ↗

— Philip Larkin

#coastal #deepens #early #get #hands

In the younger days of the Republic there lived in the county of - two men, who were admitted on all hands to be the very best men In the county; which, in the Georgia vocabulary, means they could flog any other two men in the county. ↗

— Augustus Baldwin Longstreet

#any #best #could #county #days