Got Fingered Quotes & Sayings

I have more baggage than baggage claim. I'm damaged goods. I'm not good at ... " she released him for a moment and fingered between the two of them "this."
"Well, I think you're dancing just fine, Miss Gerhart." he smirked. He knew that was not what she meant, but he had hoped to lighten their mood. Maybe if he could get her to relax she would give him a chance. — J.B. McGee

I rose swiftly and struck him across the cheek, hard enough to make my palm sting. He gaped at me. 'I do not want your damned money. I want you to answer me.'
Carefully, he fingered his jaw. There was something new and strange in his gaze, sharp, intent enough to make me wary. 'I do believe I've forgotten the question.' — Aislinn Kerry

What a tale we have been in, Mr. Frodo, haven't we?' he said. 'I wish I could hear it told. Do you think they'll say: Now comes the story of Nine-fingered Frodo and the ring of Doom? And then everyone will hush, like we did, when in Rivendell they told us the tale of Beren One-hand and the Great Jewel. I wish I could hear it! And I wonder how it will go on after our part. — J.R.R. Tolkien

William slapped him on the shoulder, sending Sex into rapturous convulsions. "Before we do this, I've got one question for you. And you can't lie. This is too important."
A bit sick to his stomach at what such a debaucher could want to know, Paris cast his attention to the black-haired, blue-eyed he-devil. "Ask."
"Are you going to suggest I kiss you for good luck or strength or whatever it is your sex demon needs?"
That earned the warrior a two-fingered salute.
"So that's a no?" William asked.
Paris worked his jaw. "Here, let me help you off the cliff to the drawbridge." With no more warning, he shoved William over the ledge. He thought he heard a fading, " So not cool," from the bastard as he fell ... fell ...
Splat. — Gena Showalter

And these?" I crooned as I fingered his nipple rings.
"Something of a souvenir from Fiji."
"You couldn't just get a t-shirt? — Priscilla West

I was used to paying a great deal of attention to my hands, one way and another. They were my tools, my channel of touch, mingling the delicacy and strength by which I healed. They had a certain beauty, which I admired in a detached sort of way, but it was the beauty of strength and competence, the assurance of power that made its form admirable. It was the same hand now, pale and long-fingered, the knuckles slightly bony - oddly bare without my ring, but recognizably my hand. Yet it lay in a hand so much larger and rougher that it seemed small, and fragile by comparison. His — Diana Gabaldon

As I fingered my way through the songs, I felt my worries slough away. My music has always been the best remedy for my dark moods. As I sang, even my bruises seemed to pain me less. — Patrick Rothfuss

The nymphs in green? Delightful girls.' 'It is clear you have been a great while at sea, to call those sandy-haired coarse-featured pimply short-necked thick-fingered vulgar-minded lubricious blockheads by such a name. Nymphs, forsooth. If they were nymphs, they must have had their being in a tolerably rank and stagnant pool: the wench on my left had an ill breath, and turning for relief I found her sister had a worse; and the upper garment of neither was free from reproach. Worse lay below, I make no doubt. — Patrick O'Brian

She put
two-fingered guns to her temples when she saw us: red patch
of smoker's skin around her mouth like a raw sun rising. — Adrian Matejka

You may be right. I think it was round about Christmas when I got my Welsh dragon tattoo."
At that, Tessa had to try very hard not to blush. "How did that happen?"
Will made an airy gesture with his hand. "I was drunk ... "
"Nonsense. You were never really drunk."
"On the contrary - in order to learn how to pretend to be inebriated, once must become inebriated at least once, as a reference point. Six-Fingered Nigel had been at the mulled cider - "
"You can't mean there's truly a Six-Fingered Nigel? — Cassandra Clare

Theirs was the snot-nosed, sticky-fingered world of peanut butter sandwiches and cartoons, playgrounds and superhero pajamas, crayons and pop-up books, booster chairs and midday naps. Their world existed no farther than the reach of their tiny arms. They were new. Innocent. Vulnerable. Yet they were somehow able to take personal and public responsibility for a hard-wired sin nature, implored to pledge allegiance to an invisible overlord they could not see, and charged to prevent their own torture in a nasty, horrible place that the Vacation Bible School teachers called Hell. — Seth Andrews

There's good news and bad news about 2 Fast 2 Furious , the moronic follow-up to The Fast and the Furious and a contender for the worst movie of 2003. The good news is that it's better, albeit marginally, than Freddy Got Fingered . The bad news is that it's 15 minutes longer. — James Berardinelli

I feel like a pioneer with the split-fingered fastball. I was the first one to really throw it pretty much 100 percent of the time. It was a pitch that I had to have. If I didn't have it, I wouldn't have been in the big leagues. — Bruce Sutter

What women wanted to be eaten alive, choked by a thrusting tongue? Not me, I wanted to be played like a violin, strummed pianissimo, in largo timing, fingered into legato, and let it grow into crescendo. — V.C. Andrews

Cecil fingered the Agnus Dei round her neck. "Why shouldn't they have lucky things?" she said.

"Well, it's all very complicated," Dominic said. "And perhaps I'm not the one to explain it."

"Why not?" Cecil asked, surprised.

"Because I don't know if I believe," he said seriously, "and if I did, I would be of the religion King James was banished for."

"A Catholic? Why?" Cecil was even more surprised.

"Because what they teach all hangs together in one piece," said Dominic. "It's either that or nothing for me. — Meriol Trevor

But Jace", Clary said. "Valentine taught him more than just fighting. He taught him languages, and how to play the piano"
"That was Jocelyn's influence." Sebastian said her name unwillingly, as if he hated the sound of it. "She thought Valentine ought to be able to talk about books, art, music ... not just killing things. He passed that on to Jace."
A wrought iron blue gate rose to their left. Sebastian ducked under it and beckoned Clary to follow him. She didn't have to duck but went after him, her hands stuffed into her pockets. "What about you?" she asked.
He held up his hands. They were unmistakably her mother's hands - dexterous, long-fingered, meant for holding a brush or a pen. "I learned to play the instruments of war, " he said, "and paint in blood. I am not like Jace. — Cassandra Clare

The smocked chick fingered my hair and said in her stupid voice, 'You're receding.' 'We all are,' I said. We all are. We are all receding - waving or beckoning or just kissing our fingertips, we are all fading, shrinking, paling. Life is all losing, we are all losing, losing mother, father, youth, hair, looks, teeth, friends, lovers, shape, reason, life. We are losing, losing, losing. Take life away. It's too hard, too difficult. We aren't any good at it. Try us out on something else. But shelve life. Take life off the stands. It's too fucking difficult and we aren't any good at it. — Martin Amis

I pecked my stories out two-fingered on the Remington portable typewriter my mother had bought me. I had begged for it when I was ten. — Octavia E. Butler

And in a small house five miles away was a man who held my mud-encrusted charm bracelet out to his wife.
Look what I found at the old industrial park," he said. "A construction guy said they were bulldozing the whole lot. They're afraid of sink holes like that one that swallowed the cars."
His wife poured him some water from the sink as he fingered the tiny bike and the ballet shoe, the flower basket and the thimble. He held out the muddy bracelet as she set down his glass.
This little girl's grown up by now," she said.
Almost. Not quite.
I wish you all a long and happy life. — Alice Sebold

Morris wondered what domestic catastrophe would make a man sell even the plaster gnomes from his garden.It was a horrid piece of evidence for mutability; Mutability, goddess of the auction room, dusty-fingered Mutability, the old-age pensioner goddess. And she ruled over the casserole containing the half-empty packet of sugar no one would ever finish, now; and the dropsical white tea-pot with the brown tidemark left in by years of the-making by dead women in flowered aprons ( withered and dead, all the chintz flowers); over all the odd, disjointed fragments of other people's lives. — Angela Carter

Are you particularly attached to these? He fingered the lace around the crease where her thigh curved against the most intimate part of her.
"Wh-what?" Her hands dripped form his head to dig into the sheets.
He filed away her responsiveness when touched in that particular area. I'll take that as a no." Gipping hold of the front, he tore the fragile fabric off her body. The scraps fell away like mist. — Nalini Singh

She fingered the card and looked at the younger man. "James Edward, did you offer the man a cool drink?" James Edward said, "You want a Scrapple? — Robert Crais

Her Kind

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind. — Anne Sexton

hear you're going to be on crutches for quite a while." "Yes, well - " "Abigail has already said she's moving back home to help you." "Oh," said Madeline. "Oh." She fingered the pink petals of the flowers. "Well, I'll talk to her about it. I'll be perfectly fine. She doesn't need to look after me." "No, but I think she wants to move back home," said Nathan. "She's looking for an excuse." Madeline and Ed looked at each other. Ed shrugged. "I always thought the novelty would wear off," said Nathan. "She missed her mum. We're not her real life." "Right." "So. I should get going," said Ed. "Could you stay for a moment, mate? — Liane Moriarty

He fingered her nape, massaging his sensual intent. I'll give you whatever you want whenever you want it. Any time of day, you need relief, just crook your finger and I'll crook mine. Against you, inside you, deep as you need it. If I'm not around, text me and I'll come, ready to make you come. For one week, I'll fulfill every fantasy on demand and get you off so many times we'll break records. — Kate Meader

He reached across and fingered the pendant; I felt it move against my skin. "Willow, look," He said. "We haven't talked much about what might happen, but ... you know that I always want to be with you, right? I mean
no matter what."
And I had known it; I felt it every time he held me
but even so, actually hearing the words made my heart catch. "I want that, too," I said. "Always, Alex. — L.A. Weatherly

I stared at the stop sign and even though I was only five I thought, I will remember that stop sign for the rest of my life. The dents and the bumps, the colors and the shape, the three-fingered, black scuff and long silver scrape - even the dirty gray sky behind it. Days will go by and I will grow old but from time to time the image of this stop sign will come to my mind and I will think about it and remember what I was thinking at this exact time. I even remember thinking that I was awfully young to have such a profound thought and premonition but there it was. — April Adams

Goodness," Tessa said. "If you keep seeing six-fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions." Jem choked on his tea. — Cassandra Clare

soon as rosy-fingered morning came forth from the first grey dawn, — Homer

Gabriel noticed with satisfaction the way Julia intentionally fingered one of her diamond earrings, as if she understood his revelations and received them gladly. As if she knew he was revealing his love for her through art. His heart swelled. — Sylvain Reynard

No. No!" he says.
"I ... " He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don't know.
"You can't go. Ana, I love you!"
"I love you, too, Christian, it's just - "
"No ... no!" he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. "Christian ... "
"No," he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn't move. What?
"Christian, what are you doing?"
He continues to stare down, not looking at me.
"Christian! What are you doing?"
My voice is high-pitched. He doesn't move.
"Christian, look at me!" I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze - he's almost serene ... expectant.
Holy Fuck ... Christian. The submissive. — E.L. James

He called it a ptero-dactyle, meaning 'wing-fingered. — Elizabeth Kolbert

Times like this, I don't wish for ignorance. I look around and I see the bloated ignorance of the lumpen proletariat: roly-poly, sausage-fingered, ginger-topped fathers of at least two illegitimate children trying to massage the asses of waiflike, peroxide-scarred students who are themselves trying to navigate adulthood with their new-found freedom from outdated parenting. — Ayize Jama-Everett

Gabriel flashed him the one-fingered Mudra of Contempt. — Walter Jon Williams

I see Christina, emerging, chewing and sticky-fingered, between two panels of the tent. Partly out of bravado and partly in order to test what will happen, I bite her on the arm as hard as I can — Kathy Page

How guilt refined the methods of self-torture, threading the beads of detail into an eternal loop, a rosary to be fingered for a lifetime. — Ian McEwan