You know you have received the invitation when your heart is ready to risk everything to hold the hand of God.
You are going to break your promise. I understand. And I hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that I will not hate you.
It's like she has her heart in her hand and it's broken. She's holding it out and showing me all the little pieces. Or maybe it's my heart.
It was the sort of bone deep emotion that made him want to hold her tighter with one hand, and draw a sword against the world with the other.
Sex is a commitment...Once you're there you can't go back to holding hands...and when you give yourself both mentally and physically...well, you're completely vulnerable.
I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.
I was caged by him like a bird with clipped wings. I could flutter but I couldn’t escape though I’m not certain I’d want to even if I could.
I’ve watched you for a very long time now. And in this time, I’ve come to discover just as I first suspected. We are perfect for one another.
O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible, and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands.
Bombardment, barrage, curtain-fire, mines, gas, tanks, machine-guns, hand-grenades - words, words, but they hold the horror of the world.
Holding my hands, kissing the palms, his smile is ecstatic, jubilant, adoring, and the song playing speaks for him, “Have you ever seen the light...the way it shines in you.
Time is a slippery thing: lose hold of it once, and its string might sail out of your hands forever.
It's because of the way you are. It's why you're happy reading novels. You're only comfortable with a piece of the world that you can hold in your hand.
I had this vision of the two of us holding hands or getting into some light petting behind shower curtains or up in the fencing aisle or some shit.
But there are people too he says, everywhere there are people and I think it is easier to hold hands with people than it is with angels, yes?
The most intimate moments in the world don't happen in nightclubs or backstage or even on the movie screen. They were moments like this: sitting silently, comfortably, holding hands on a darkened bedroom floor.
Billy squinted at me. "Why are you letting them go?" "Because they're real." "How do you know?" "The one I was holding crapped on my hand.
One of the chief paradoxes of our culture [is] that the welfare of its children, its _future_, is placed almost exclusively in the hands of people of low status, a class it holds in contempt.
You hold one feather tightly in your hand, close your eyes and concentrate. The location of the other feather will appear in your mind and the magic will take you there.
Dust everywhere... and out of that emerged this beautiful boy with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, holding his hand out to help me to my feet.
Should I tell her of the moments of joy, the intense pleasure of holding the hand of the one you love and wishing that time would stand still?
