Hand Line Quotes & Sayings

Chapter One The weather in Paris was unusually warm as Peter Haskell's plane landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport. The plane taxied neatly to the gate, and a few minutes later, briefcase in hand, Peter was striding through the airport. He was almost smiling as he got on the customs line, despite the heat of the day and the number of people crowding ahead of him in line. Peter Haskell loved Paris. He generally traveled to Europe — Danielle Steel

I feel like a lot has changed - ebooks are a much more valid format and bigger presses are taking less chances. As a bookseller, there are less real bookstores and more people buying on-line. As a writer, I think there are fewer paths to break through on a big press, but on the other hand there are more small presses doing awesome work now. Overall, artistically, I think it's a pretty exciting time in the literary world. — Kevin Sampsell

There isn't going to be a next time. I mean it, Alan," she said jerkily as he traced a line down the back of her hand with his fingertip. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't locked me out of my house. Don't touch me that way," she added in a furious undertone.
"How would you like me to touch you? You have very sensitive hands," he murmured before she could answer. He grazed a thumb over her knuckle and felt the quick tremor. Tonight, he promised himself, he was going to feel that tremor again-at every pulse point. "How many times did you think of me this week? — Nora Roberts

Shahara-"
"Zzzt," she said, holding her hand up. "Wasting time here. I won't even hear it. You go. I go. It's my sister's life on the line and I out-shoot and am pretty sure I outfight you, too." "I think we came up pretty even on that score." "But I am the better shot." He gave her a grudging glare. "I concede. However, I think I can take you when I'm sober." She took the bottle out of his hand. "Good. I'm going to throw this out." "Uh!" He reached for it. Shahara danced away from him and had the bottle upside down in the sink before he could catch her. He tried to get it out of her hands, but it was too late. "You are an evil, mean woman."

-Syn & Shahara — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Arin, you're not listening. You're not thinking clearly."
"You're right. I haven't been thinking clearly, not for a long time. But I understand now." Arin pushed his tiles away. His winning hand scattered out of line. "You have changed, Kestrel. I don't know who you are anymore. And I don't want to. — Marie Rutkoski

Tally yanked her hand away and stuck it behind her back. "God. I am so sorry." She'd touched him. Felt the heat of his tanned skin, felt the crisp hairs at his groin ... felt ... oh, man.
"Nice try, but no cigar. Want to go for two out of three?"
Tally closed her eyes and blew out a breath. "Oh, this day just gets better and better."
"It's certainly looking up for me." With an amused glance, the pirate hitched his shorts back over the sharp angle of his hipbones. There'd been so sign of a tan line. — Cherry Adair

Outside the station of Santa Maria Novella Isabella has to stand aside while a line of prisoners are marched into the terminus by armed Fascist guards. They pass within touching distance of her, carrying bags and bundles. There are old people and some children too. They all seem swamped by their clothes, disembodied by them somehow. Then she catches the eye of Ezra, a young Jewish man who once worked in the arts material shop where she buys most of her pigments and brushes. He is almost at the back of the line. The veins are high and urgent on his hand. His trousers are held up with a dirty piece of string. His cobalt blue eyes hold hers for the barest beat of a moment but some essence of his being conveys itself to her and her blood quickens in sympathy for him. She has the feeling of looking into the eyes of a ghost. — Glenn Haybittle

I meant that the Chinese people are not aware of their own entrapment. They believe they live in a free society, but don't realize how much they are being monitored and controlled, how much the information they receive is restricted and warped, until they step out of line, that is, and feel the heavy hand of the state fall on them. — Ma Jian

Roll of thunder hear my cry Over the water bye and bye Ole man comin' down the line Whip in hand to beat me down But I ain't gonna let him Turn me 'round — Mildred D. Taylor

The more government takes in taxes, the less incentive people have to work. What coal miner or assembly-line worker jumps at the offer of overtime when he knows Uncle Sam is going to take sixty percent or more of his extra pay? ... Any system that penalizes success and accomplishment is wrong. Any system that discourages work, discourages productivity, discourages economic progress, is wrong. If, on the other hand, you reduce tax rates and allow people to spend or save more of what they earn, they'll be more industrious; they'll have more incentive to work hard, and money they earn will add fuel to the great economic machine that energizes our national progress. The result: more prosperity for all - and more revenue for government.4 — Donald J. Trump

A feller's glad to be a friend, Out fishin'. A helpin' hand he'll always lend, Out fishin' The brotherhood of rod and line An' sky an' stream is always fine; Men come real close to God's design, Out fishin'. A feller isn't plotting schemes, Out fishin'. He's only busy with his dreams, Out fishin' His livery is a coat of tan; His creed, to do the best he can; A feller's always mostly man Out fishin'. — Edgar Guest

In relay racing, there comes a great disappointment when those who are supposed to receive the baton to get to the finishing line do not get it from those who are supposed to hand off the baton. — Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

It was also her nature that caused her letters to avoid emotional pitfalls and confine themselves to relating the events of her daily life in the utilitarian style of a ship's log. In reality they were distracted letters, intended to keep the coals alive without putting her hand in the fire, while Florentino Ariza burned himself alive in every line. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Ever since, two summers ago, Joe Marino had begun to come into her bed, a preposterous fecundity had overtaken the staked plans, out in the side garden where the southwestern sun slanted in through the line of willows each long afternoon. The crooked little tomato branches, pulpy and pale as if made of cheap green paper, broke under the weight of so much fruit; there was something frantic in such fertility, a crying-out like that of children frantic to please. Of plants, tomatoes seemed the most human, eager and fragile and prone to rot. Picking the watery orange-red orbs, Alexandra felt she was cupping a giant lover's testicles in her hand. — John Updike

At one stopover on the train journey home, Hans told his sister Inge later, he saw a young girl with the Star of David on her breast; she was repairing tracks on the line, along with other people with yellow badges on their clothes. Her face was pallid, sunken in; her eyes, beyond grief and terror. Impulsively, Hans thrust his rations in her hand. She looked up at him, then at his uniform. She threw the packet of food to the ground.
He scooped it up, wiped off the dust, and picked a daisy growing by the side of the tracks. He placed the package, with the daisy on top, at her feet. He said, "I would have liked to give you a little pleasure." He boarded the train.
When he looked back, the girl was standing there, watching the train disappear, the flower in her hair. — Jud Newborn

I saw behind me those who had gone, and before me, those who are to come. I looked back and saw my father, and his father, and all our fathers, and in front, to see my son, and his son, and the sons upon sons beyond.
And their eyes were my eyes.
As I felt, so they had felt, and were to feel, as then, so now, as tomorrow and forever. Then I was not afraid, for I was in a long line that had no beginning, and no end, and the hand of his father grasped my father's hand, and his hand was in mine, and my unborn son took my right hand, and all, up and down the line stretched from Time That Was, to Time That Is, and is not yet, raised their hands to show the link, and we found that we were one, born of Woman, Son of Man, had in the Image, fashioned in the Womb by the Will of God, the eternal Father.
I was one of them, they were of me, and in me, and I in all of them. — Richard Llewellyn

His lips brushed my cheek, and I found it hard to concentrate."I lied earlier."
"About what."
His hands slid to my lower back."When I said you looked great? I wasn't completely honest."
That was not what I expected. I turned my head the slightest and then bit back a gasp. Our mouths were centimeters apart and I thought about Brit's certainty that he would kiss me tonight. I forced my tongue to work."You don't think I look great?"
"No,"he said, his expression serious as one hand followed the line of my spine, resting below the edges of my hair. He lowered his head so that his temple pressed against mine.
"You look beautiful tonight."
My breath caught."Thank you. — J. Lynn

I love you too. I want nothing more than to take your hand and walk you to the other side, but baby, it's not your time. I didn't put my life on the line and die just so you could throw your life away. — Danielle Jamie

INSTRUCTIONS FOR ZAZEN First of all, you have to sit down, which you're probably already doing. The traditional way is to sit on a zafu cushion on the floor with your legs crossed, but you can sit on a chair if you want to. The important thing is just to have good posture and not to slouch or lean on anything. Now you can put your hands in your lap and kind of stack them up, so that the back of your left hand is on the palm of your right hand, and your thumb tips come around and meet on top, making a little round circle. The place where your thumbs touch should line up with your bellybutton. Jiko says this way of holding your hands is called hokkai jo-in,113 and it symbolizes the whole cosmic universe, which you are holding on your lap like a great big beautiful egg. — Ruth Ozeki

But how shall I tell you all these things," he said, the line of his mouth twisting. "And then say to you
it is only you I have ever loved? How should you believe me?"
The question hung in the air between us, shimmering like the reflection from the water below.
"If you say it," I said, "I'll believe you." ...
"Only you," he said, so softly I could barely hear him. "To worship ye with my body, give ye all the service of my hands. To give ye my name, and all my heart and soul with it. Only you. Because ye will not let me lie - and yet ye love me."
I did touch him then.
"Jamie," I said softly, and laid my hand on his arm. "You aren't alone anymore. — Diana Gabaldon

She was all the things I wasn't. And i was all the things she wasn't. she could paint circles around anyone; I couldn't even draw a straight line. She was never into sports; I've always been. Her hand, it fit mine. — Jodi Picoult

Any newspaper, from the first line to the last, is nothing but a web of horrors, I cannot understand how an innocent hand can touch a newspaper without convulsing in disgust. — Charles Baudelaire

We wonder why we have got the Freemen or the militants. We wonder why we have got unrest in this country. It is because our government, in fact, has got out of hand and out of line, with the Endangered Species Act. — Don Young

He made a small sigh, as he swallowed the first blood, then his mouth closed over my earlobe, mouth working at the wound, tongue coaxing blood from the wound. He pressed his body the length of mine, one hand cupping my turned head, the other playing down the line of my body. Maybe it was just blood, but I never stroked my steak while eating it. — Laurell K. Hamilton

He moved naturally. Only the tension in his shoulders suggested otherwise. Her hand closed involuntarily, feeling for an absent pencil, feeling the stroke of the line that would capture that tiny sense of unease, the jarring note that would draw the observer closer, closer still, wondering what it was about this scene of pastoral grace. — Diana Gabaldon

It's about knowing that in certain moments you have to offer yourself up as a minor sacrifice to help them accomplish what they need to accomplish. Letting them abuse you, on the other hand, would be a terrible disservice. I know it seems like a fine line, but it's a real one, and it can be done. — Patrick Lencioni

There's that weird and cool line that music can cross where it still gives you the goosebumps and you think it's cool but on the other hand it's sort of like also letting you off the hook a little bit with the ironic aspects of the thing. I think that's the inexplicable, the smell of a movie. That's the taste of the movie. — Zack Snyder

What do you think? Does everything look right? "
" You really expect me to look at anything but you? "
She laughed even as her pulse jittered. " Boy, I must be in bad shape when a shopworn line like that hits the mark. "
" I mean it, " he said and watched her smile fade. " I adore looking at you. " Laying a hand on her knees with a long, slow, thorough kiss. " Beautiful Margo. mine. "
" Well, you're certainly taking my mind off my ... kiss me again. "
" Glad to. — Nora Roberts

There is much more to playing the clavier than playing written music. Do you realize with accompanying there is often nothing written out but the bass line
the left hand? There might be a few notations as to a suggested harmony, but it is up to me to fill in the music, at the proper volume, style, and harmony for the soloist
often instantly. I've heard it said that Bach questioned wether the soloist or the accompanist deserves the greatest glory. — Nancy Moser

There are those, of course, who claim we must give up freedom in exchange for economic progress. Well, pardon me, but anyone trying to sell you that line is no better than a three-card-trick man. One thing becoming more clear every day is that freedom and progress go hand in hand. Throughout the developing world, people are rejecting socialism because they see that it doesn't empower people, it impoverishes them. — Ronald Reagan

All the plots of hell and commotions on earth have not so much as shaken God's hand to spoil one letter or line he has been drawing. — William Gurnall

You are silent now who once stood on battlefields ravaged by destruction unimaginable, holding in those desperate places the line of freedom for others you would never know, and who would never know you. And being one of those you never knew, I would give all I have to clasp your hand one single time, look into eyes that witnessed the bloodied carnage that results when freedom refuses to bow to chains of any kind, and simply say 'thank you. — Craig D. Lounsbrough

How does one hate a country, or love one? Tibe talks about it; I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That's a good thing, but one mustn't make a virtue of it, or a profession ... Insofar as I love life, I love the hills of the Domain of Estre, but that sort of love does not have a boundary-line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope. — Ursula K. Le Guin

I walked back to the front of the bakery to see a knot of people stalking our display for June. Apricot and lavender might seem like an unusual pairing, but it made perfect sense to me. Luscious, sweet apricots taste best when they're baked and the flavor is concentrated. On the other hand, lavender likes it cool; the buds have a floral, almost astringent flavor. Lavender was a line drawing that I filled in with brushstrokes of lush apricot. — Judith Fertig

I remember what Anna called the three of us.
The Pilot. The Poet. The Physic.
They are in all of us. I believe this. They every person might have a way to fly, a line of poetry to put down for others to see, a hand to heal. — Ally Condie

I closed my eyes as I put my hand in his. It was different the second time. Something clicked into place and I could almost sense a line of energy connecting us. I gasped as it tightened around my heart. — Aileen Erin

In the centre of our line, eighty paces to my left, I felt Cadus raise his hand; I did not need to look.
'Sound,' he said. That was all. — M.C. Scott

As parents, we can have no joy, knowing that this government is not sufficiently lasting to ensure any thing which we may bequeath to posterity: And by a plain method of argument, as we are running the next generation into debt, we ought to do the work of it, otherwise we use them meanly and pitifully. In order to discover the line of our duty rightly, we should take our children in our hand, and fix our station a few years farther into life; that eminence will present a prospect, which a few present fears and prejudices conceal from our sight. — Thomas Paine

If a poem is concentrated, a closed fist, then a novel is relaxed and expansive, an open hand: it has roads, detours, destinations; a heart line, a head line; morals and money come into it. Where the fist excludes and stuns, the open hand can touch and encompass a great deal in its travels. — Sylvia Plath

I was indignant. "She called me a dork. She just met me. How could she possibly make that call after only one dinner?" Mom eyed my outfit critically and then said, "You do realize you're wearing your Gryffindor jersey, right?" I opened my mouth to tell her it was a collectible straight off the Harry Potter official clothing line, but Mom cut across me. "And you know that when Daisy walked in, you had your right hand up, fingers splayed in that strange Star Trek signal." Yeah, — Cookie O'Gorman

Cairn Stone
This is the rock he lifted
to lay upon a cairn
in a high place.
This rock, warmed by the near sun,
felt right, somehow, in his hand.
He decided to carry it down
to his mother, who lay in bed,
recovering.
It is so easy to please
a mother. Just to think of her
for a moment, from a high place,
and to carry that thought to her
in the form of a stone. — Claudia Putnam

The permanence of ink encourages one to "go for it," to try to put the line right where it should be ... continued attempts to place lines accurately build the eye-hand coordination necessary for sketching. — Paul Laseau

You don't understand," getting mad. "You guys, you're like Puritans are about the Bible. So hung up with words, words. You know where that play exists, not in that file cabinet, not in any paperback you're looking for, but - " a hand emerged from the veil of shower-steam to indicate his suspended head - "in here. That's what I'm for. To give the spirit flesh. The words, who cares? They're rote noises to hold line bashes with, to get past the bone barrier around an actor's memory, right? But the reality is in this head. Mine. I'm the projector at the planetarium, all the closed little universe visible in the circle of that stage is coming out of my mouth, eyes, sometimes other orifices also. — Thomas Pynchon

The police are there to do the job, not to think about it,' was the line used by critics, the harshest of which were often other police. But police officers see and hear at first hand the things that ail a society, and along the way they gain trememdous insight into how to fix problems or processes, even if they can't change people's behaviours or attitudes. With the right systems and resources, their personal capacity for creating a safer society is far more powerful than the guns they carry. This would be the thinking driving my direction when I later came to Victoria to take charge of its police force. — Christine Nixon

Come with me if you want to live."
Neva stared at the enormous hand the stranger extended her. Her gaze followed the black leather-clad arm up to the massive shoulders, the strong jaw, and the thick lock of wavy blonde hair hanging over his dark glasses. "You have so got to be kidding me," she said.
He shrugged. "I always wanted to say that line. Except I'm not kidding. — Dani Harper

Taking a breath, I stepped into the line to find him standing right where I'd left him, smiling with his hand extended. (Rachel and Al) — Kim Harrison

You just like to piss me off," Jack said.
"Well, there's that. On the other hand, we'll find out really fast just how much of a bastard you're going to be to live with - with your woman around. You get out of line, and I'll have to take you out behind the barn."
"We don't have a barn."
"I told you we needed a barn, damn it," Ken said. "You had to have a shop. It doesn't sound the same saying I'm taking you out behind the shop. — Christine Feehan

I dreamed a limitless book,
A book unbound,
Its leaves scattered in fantastic abundance.
On every line there was a new horizon drawn,
New heavens supposed;
New states, new souls.
One of those souls,
Dozing through some imagined afternoon,
Dreamed these words.
And needing a hand to set them down,
Made mine. — Clive Barker

You're the last line of defense. When you're dead, Hitler will march through Leningrad the way he marched through Paris. Do you remember that?'
'That's not fair. The French didn't fight,' Tatiana said, wanting to be anywhere right now but standing in front of men loading artwork from the Hermitage onto armored trucks.
'They didn't fight, Tania, but you will fight. For every street and for every building. And when you lose
'
'The art will be saved.'
'Yes! The art will be saved,' Alexander said emotionally. 'And another artist will paint a glorious picture, immortalizing you, with a club in your raised hand, swinging to hit the German tank as it's about to crush you, all against the backdrop of the statue of Peter the Great atop his bronze horse. And that picture will hang in the Hermitage, and at the start of the next war the curator will once again stand on the street, crying over his vanishing crates. — Paullina Simons

The type of cartooning that I think is generally referred to as 'alternative' or 'underground' is usually - the distinction is usually in terms of whether it's made by one person, the entire thing is done by one hand or more of a production line process, which is how the comics that we grew up reading were made. — Adrian Tomine

I felt a warm hand on the skin of my lower back."
I twisted my neck, looked up and there he was.
I held my breath and he asked, "You comin' or what?"
That was it. That was his pickup line. "You comin' or what?"
I went. — Kristen Ashley

Ildiko clutched his arm, unwilling to have him leave her side. "I enjoy your touch, Brishen."

The stiffness eased from his shoulders. He gave her a wry look and pressed his palm to the pale expanse of skin just below her collarbones. His hand rose and fell in quick time to her breathing. "I believe you, but this tells me you fear it as well."

She winced. "Your teeth are so...sharp."

"They are, but I'm not careless, wife. And if, for some unfathomable reason, I accidently bite you, you're welcome to bite me back."

His attempt at humor worked, and Ildiko chuckled. "Brishen - " She offered him a toothy grin. "These wouldn't do much damage."

He traced the line of her collarbones with the rough pads of his fingers, their dark claws a whisper of movement across her flesh. "You have obviously never been badly bitten by a horse. — Grace Draven

His brow is seamed with line and scar;
His cheek is red and dark as wine;
The fires as of a Northern star
Beneath his cap of sable shine.
His right hand, bared of leathern glove,
Hangs open like an iron gin,
You stoop to see his pulses move,
To hear the blood sweep out and in.
He looks some king, so solitary
In earnest thought he seems to stand,
As if across a lonely sea
He gazed impatient of the land.
Out of the noisy centuries
The foolish and the fearful fade;
Yet burn unquenched these warrior eyes,
Time hath not dimmed, nor death dismayed. — Walter De La Mare

Randy stared into the glass he held in his hand, gazing into its cobra eyes. A double shot of thirty-year-old single malt whisky. You can't be an alcoholic when you only drink top shelf. Right? — Ted Magnuson

When you give up vengeance, make sure you are not giving up on justice. The line between the two is faint, unsteady, and fine ... Vengeance is our own pleasure of seeing someone who hurt us getting it back and then some. Justice, on the other hand, is secure when someone pays a fair penalty for wronging another even if the injured person takes no pleasure in the transaction. Vengeance is personal satisfaction. Justice is moral accounting ... Human forgiveness does not do away with human justice. — Lewis B. Smedes

He opened two blouse buttons and traced a line along the top of my bra with his fingertip. He bent his head, brushed a kiss across my breast, and slipped his hand inside my bra. I think I might have moaned a little, and I steadied myself by sliding my hand up the inside of his thigh. It turns out that just because I think I could have a future with Morelli doesn't mean I'm entirely immune to Ranger's hotness. — Janet Evanovich

I have always been considered a bit of an outsider, and a general failure at everything I put my hand towards. In fact, you might even go so far as to say that I'm a lesser being of great insignificance! I state this because, when writing a story, you should always start the first line off with at least one basic truth.
-First lines from the novel Sukiyaki — Andrew James Pritchard

I looked at her without a word. She held an edge of the beach towel in each hand, pressing the edges against her cheeks. White smoke was rising from the cigarette between her fingers. With no wind to disturb it, the smoke rose straight up, like a miniature smoke signal. She was apparently having trouble deciding whether to cry or to laugh. At least she looked that way to me. She wavered atop the narrow line that divided one possibility from the other, but in the end she fell to neither side. May Kasahara pulled her expression together, put the towel on the ground, and took a drag on her cigarette. The time was nearly five o'clock, but the heat showed no sign of abating. — Haruki Murakami

Steve Jobs gave a small private presentation about the iTunes Music Store to some independent record label people. My favorite line of the day was when people kept raising their hand saying, "Does it do [x]?", "Do you plan to add [y]?". Finally Jobs said, "Wait wait - put your hands down. Listen: I know you have a thousand ideas for all the cool features iTunes could have. So do we. But we don't want a thousand features. That would be ugly. Innovation is not about saying yes to everything. It's about saying NO to all but the most crucial features. — Derek Sivers

On the other hand, I came from a long line of grocers. — Stuart Gibbs

He places the skull in the palm of my hand. There are four canines; the top two are so long and curved I can feel them pricking my skin. There's a green tinge round the eye socket and in a fine line across the cranium. I'm not sure what animal it's from.
'Stoat,' Harris says, as if I've spoken out loud. 'They hunt grouse and partridge. I found it behind my house. I buried the body in the furze until it was just bone.'
His hand is still beneath mine, supporting it. I think of him seeing the small dead creature and digging a tiny grave for it. Planning ahead for all those months just so he'd see the skeleton. Or maybe he severed the animal's head and that was the only part he buried.
'It's been waiting for you all this time. Like I have. — Sanjida Kay

Her beauty was classic, timeless. Just the line of her neck, the curve of her cheek, the way the dress draped her hips, was enough to stop the room. When she'd turned away to look at something on the table and he'd seen the back of the dress, he thought he might have to sit down. The smooth skin of her back looked impossibly soft and he ached to reach out, just for a moment, and splay his hand against it. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Few people have any next, they live from hand to mouth without a plan, and are always at the end of their line. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

At its core, the collection is built around a very wise line from a Beatles song: I want to hold your hand. I want to hold your hand with no further expectations. I want to hold your hand instead of telling you I understand when I don't. I want to hold your hand although we don't always get along. I want to hold your hand despite the calluses, scratches, and scars that get in the way. I want to hold your hand knowing I'll have to let it go one day. — Cheryl Julia Lee

Over the past month, Muslims have fasted, taking no food or water during daylight hours, in order to refocus their minds on faith and redirect their hearts to charity. Muslims worldwide have stretched out a hand of mercy to those in need. Charity tables at which the poor can break their fast line the streets of cities and towns. And gifts of food and clothing and money are distributed to ensure that all share in God's abundance. Muslims often invite members of other families to their evening iftar meals, demonstrating a spirit of tolerance. — George W. Bush

Communication is such a two-edged sword for guys. On the one hand, they almost always mean what they say. Refreshing, I know. On the other hand, getting them to actually say it can be like coaxing a corpse to tap-dance. Not that it can't be done. But it's so freaking exhausting. Not to mention the cost in heavyweight fishing line and Savion Glover videos. — Jennifer Rardin

There are times in your life when things line up and Fate takes a hand in your future," Ptolemy remembered Coydog saying. "When that happens, you got to move quick and take advantage of the sitchiation or you'll never know what might have been."
"How do I know when it's time to move quick?" L'il Pea asked.
"When somethin' big happens and then somethin' else come up. — Walter Mosley

He longed for the years when it was enough to simply be in his room with his hand moving over a piece of graph paper, before the years of decisions and identities, when his parents made his choices for him, and the only thing he had to concentrate on was the clean blade stroke of a line, the ruler's perfect knife edge. — Hanya Yanagihara

I wanted to start a menswear line of slim-fitting, luxury cashmere jumpers in a range of great colors. I know these jumpers will become season-less staples in my own wardrobe. Cashmere and silk printed scarves and hand-beaded T-shirts compliment the line and form a solid foundation for the collection to grow next season. — Matthew Williamson

In triathlon you don't get to race that much so when you're on the start line you just need to make sure you focus on the job in hand and enjoy yourself. — Alistair Brownlee

Just - don't - move," Guy said with his hands spread out in front of him. He looked as if he were trying to catch a wild horse, and did not advance, dismount, or draw his sword.
Just then the portcullis dropped.
"There's no escape," Guy assured him.
From a nearby door, a handful of guards trotted toward Hadrian with their swords drawn.
"Stop!" Guy ordered, raising his hand abruptly. "Don't go near him. Just fan out."
The men waiting in line looked from the soldiers to Hadrian and then backed away.
"I know what you're thinking, Mr. Blackwater," Guy said in an almost friendly tone. "But we truly have you outnumbered this time. — Michael J. Sullivan

The Chorus Line:
A Rope-Jumping Rhyme

we are the maids
the ones you killed
the ones you failed

we danced in air
our bare feet twitched
it was not fair

with every goddess, queen, and bitch
from there to here
you scratched your itch

we did much less
than what you did
you judged us bad

you had the spear
you had the word
at your command

we scrubbed the blood
of our dead
paramours from floors, from chairs

from stairs, from doors,
we knelt in water
while you stared

at our bare feet
it was not fair
you licked our fear

it gave you pleasure
you raised your hand
you watched us fall

we danced on air
the ones you failed
the ones you killed — Margaret Atwood

She'd tried her hand at most things, but drew the line at honesty. — Roddy Doyle

Crayfish," I said. I dumped out a tin of water. "Really?" I nodded. "Big ones?" "Not these. You can find them, though." "Can I see?" She dropped down off the bank just like a boy would, not sitting first, just putting her left hand to the ground and vaulting the three-foot drop to the first big stone in the line that led zigzag across the water. She studied the line a moment and then crossed to the Rock. I was impressed. She had no hesitation and her balance was perfect. I made room for her. There was suddenly this fine clean smell sitting next to me. Her eyes were green. She looked around. To all of us back then the Rock was something special. It sat smack in the middle of the deepest part of the brook, the water running clear and fast around it. — Jack Ketchum

Snatching my hand in the death grip of his fingers, he pulls me off the wall to line his chest, closing his body around me in a muscular cage which smells of leather and soap. — Poppet

He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.
"Green grass breaks through snow.
Artemis pleads for my help.
I am so cool."
He grinned at us, waiting for applause.
"That last line was four syllables." Artemis said.
Apollo frowned. "Was it?"
"Yes. What about I am so bigheaded?"
"No, no, that's six syllable, hhhm." He started muttering to himself.
Zoe Nightshade turned to us. "Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever since he visited Japan. Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more poem that started with, There once was a godess from Sparta-"
"I've got it!" Apollo announced. "I am so awesome. That's five syllables!" He bowed, looking very pleased with himself. — Rick Riordan

I focus back on Kayden, releasing a breath trapped in my chest. "Are you okay?" He cups his hand over his eye, stares at his shoes, and keeps his other hand against his chest, seeming vulnerable, weak, and perplexed. For a second, I picture myself on the ground with bruises and cuts that can only be seen from the inside. "I'm fine." His voice is harsh, so I turn toward the house, ready to bolt. "Why did you do that?" he calls out through the darkness. I stop on the line of the grass and turn to meet his eyes. "I did what anyone else would have done. — Jessica Sorensen

Hello?" he said, waiting out the shrill stream on the other end of the line. He smiled, "Because I'm her husband. I can answer her phone, now." He glanced at me, and then shoved open the cab door, offering his hand. "We're at the airport, America. Why don't you and Shep pick us up and you can yell at us both on the way home? Yes, the whole way home. We should arrive around three. All right, Mare. See you then." He winced with her sharp words and then handed me the phone. "You weren't kidding. She's pissed. — Jamie McGuire

When I was young, I was a hunter, walking wooded hillsides with confident steps and a gun in my hand. I knew the blur of wings, the rocketing form, and the Great Moment that only hunters know, when all existence draws down to two points and a single line. And the universe holds it breath. And what may be and what will be meet and become one - before the echo returns to its source. — Pete Dunne

Celaena," Chaol said gently. And then she heard the scraping noise as his hand came into view, sliding across the flagstones. His fingertips stopped just at the edge of the white line. "Celaena," he breathed, his voice laced with pain - and hope. This was all she had left - his outstretched hand, and the promise of hope, of something better waiting on the other side of the line. — Sarah J. Maas

We continue to need exhortations to be sympathetic and just, even if we do not believe that there is a God who has a hand in wishing to make us so. We no longer have to be brought into line by the threat of hell or the promise of paradise; we merely have to be reminded that it is we ourselves
that is, the most mature and reasonable parts of us (seldom present in the midst of our crises and obsessions)
who want to lead the sort of life which we once imagined supernatural beings demanded of us. An adequate evolution of morality from superstition to reason should mean recognizing ourselves as the authors of our own moral commandments. — Alain De Botton

I am really excited about Battle of the Stars, the line-up looks fantastic. I've no doubt that despite their fame my hand holding will still be in high demand as they take on the judges often harsh words. Lets just hope I'm not having to mop up too many tears! — Kate Thornton

Just as a fisherman cannot catch fish unless his line is in the water, a wildlife photographer cannot shoot great wildlife images unless he or she is out there with camera in hand and the knowledge of what to do then the 'magnificent moment' occurs. — George H. Harrison

Religion?" I asked more firmly.
Patch dragged a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. "Not religion ... cult."
"You belong to a cult?" I realized too late that while I sounded surprised, I shouldn't have.
"As it turns out, I'm in need of a healthy female sacrifice. I'd planned on luring her into trusting me first, but if you're ready now ... — Becca Fitzpatrick

Dawn in Mongolia was an amazing thing. In one instant, the horizon became a faint line suspended in the darkness, and then the line was drawn upward, higher and higher. It was as if a giant hand had stretched down from the sky and slowly lifted the curtain of night from the face of the earth. It was a magnificent sight, far greater in scale ... than anything that I, with my limited human faculties, could fully comprehend. — Haruki Murakami

You choose to stay with me, them I'm going to fuck you." My jaw dropped. "What?" "You heard me. That's the only reason I keep you around, I mean, come on, princess," he continued derisively, "you're more of a liability than an asset in this line of work. But having an easy lay within reach is convenient." It's just a matter of time before you spread your legs for me." ... "Blane doesn't have to know," he said, his hand cupping my breast through my thin t-shirt. "I'll fuck you, then you can back to him, and only you and I will know he got my sloppy seconds. — Tiffany Snow

If your rod weighs six ounces, your reel nine, and your line another ounce or two, it means that you are holding a pound of weight in your casting hand - much of the time at arm's length - all the time you fish. Try carrying a pound of butter around that way for four or five hours. — Ted Trueblood

For poets today or in any age, the choice is not between freedom on the one hand and abstruse French forms on the other. The choice is between the nullity and vanity of our first efforts, and the developing of a sense of idiom, form, structure, metre, rhythm, line - all the fundamental characteristics of this verbal art. — James Fenton

Strike, with hand of fire, O weird musician, thy harp strung with Apollo's golden hair; fill the vast cathedral aisles with symphonies sweet and dim, deft toucher of the organ keys; blow, bugler, blow, until thy silver notes do touch and kiss the moonlit waves, and charm the lovers wandering 'mid the vine-clad hills. But know, your sweetest strains are discords all, compared with childhood's happy laugh - the laugh that fills the eyes with light and every heart with joy. O rippling river of laughter, thou art the blessed boundary line between the beasts and men; and every wayward wave of thine doth drown some fretful fiend of care. O Laughter, rose-lipped daughter of Joy, there are dimples enough in thy cheeks to catch and hold and glorify all the tears of grief. — Robert G. Ingersoll

After all these years, I definitely associate having a pen in my hand with having an ashtray just out of eye line. — Tom Stoppard

As I approach my fortieth birthday without having accomplished any one of the things I intended to accomplish - without ever having achieved the deep creativity that I have worked toward for all this time - I feel that I take a minor, an obscure, a dim position that is not my destiny but that is my fault, as if I had lacked, somewhere along the line, the wit and courage to contain myself competently within the shapes at hand. — John Cheever

I suppose I'm still walking that line between life and death, trying to choose which side I'm on."
"I want you on my side, healer," Jenna said.
"And ... I want to be," he said. "It's just ... " He searched her face. "How do you ever really know a person?"
Jenna ran her fingertips over the back of his hand, tracing the veins. "Not everything is a lie, Wolf," she said. "Sometimes you have to believe what you see. — Cinda Williams Chima

Remember to take a flood book with you wherever you go. This is a book on hand for whenever there is a "flood" or something unexpected that leads to a free moment. Such moments include: waiting in line someplace, waiting for a friend to be ready, waiting for something to start, waiting for a thunderstorm to pass, or waiting at the doctor's office. The list goes on and on. Follow the Boy Scout motto and be prepared. — Bruce Johnson

He slid his hand onto Riley's bare abdomen. "I got to thinkin' that a few years down the line, when yer older, what if that was our baby and I could feel it right here under my hand. Feel the life we'd created."
Riley's eyes moistened. "Girl or boy?"
"Doesn't matter. If it's a girl, we can name her after my gran. Her name was Emily Rose."
"Hmm ... I like that. Maybe the boy could be Paul Arthur, like my dad."
"Yeah, that works. But that's all the way down the line, isn't it?" It might never come to pass. — Jana Oliver

I was going to have to leave you anyway. Because I loved you too much to drag you
down with me."
My hand crept up to caress the rigid line of his jaw. "Why'd you change your mind?" I whispered.
"After I calmed down a little and had a chance to think, I figured ... I love you enough to try and deserve you. I would do anything, be anything, for you. — Lisa Kleypas

You should be up celebrating."
"This is part of it." She ran her hands carefully up the gelding's leg before pinning the wrapping to the line. "Finnegan and I are going to congratulate each other while I clean him up.But you could do me a favor." She pulled her ticket out of her pocket. "Cash in my winnings."
Brian shook his head. "At the moment I'm too pleased to be annoyed with you for betting my money." With one hand on the horse he leaned over to kiss her. "But I'm not taking half the horse."
Keeley hooked an arm around Finnegan's neck. "You hear that? He doesn't want you."
"Don't say things like that to him."
She laid her cheek against the gelding's. "You're the one hurting his feelings."
As two pairs of eyes studied him, Brian hissed out a breath. "We'll discuss this privately at some other time."
"He needs you.We both do."
The muscles n his belly twisted. "That's unfair."
"That's fact. — Nora Roberts

Time will solve all the problems Chinese school graduates face. In our bilingual society, there are no more Chinese school graduates, only English school graduates who can speak Mandarin. These English school graduates probably can also read and write Chinese, but they did not go to a Chinese school, and they act and think differently from us. Drawing a line between us, they would never say they graduated from a Chinese school, because former Chinese school graduates, that is, the vanishing group of people that includes us, are second-class citizens. They, on the other hand, belong to the first class, the Chinese elite, English school graduates who are fluent in Chinese. — Yeng Pway Ngon

Kolya rose to a crouch and crept to the front door, keeping his head below the window line. I followed. We kneeled with our backs against the door. Kolya checked his pistol one last time. I pulled the German knife from my ankle sheath. I knew I looked silly holding it, the way a young boy looks holding his father's shaving razor. Kolya grinned at me as though he was about to start laughing. This is all very strange, I thought. I am in the middle of a battle and I am aware of my own thoughts, I am worried about how stupid I look with a knife in my hand while everyone else came to fight with rifles and machine guns. I am aware that I am aware. Even now, with bullets buzzing through the air like angry hornets, I cannot escape the chatter of my brain. — David Benioff

He smiled, setting his forehead to hers. "you are very bad for me. I am trying to turn over a new leaf
I am trying to be more gentlemanly."
"But what if I want you to stay a rake?" she teased, her fingers trailing down his neck and chest, fingering the buttons on his waistcoat. "A libertine, even?" she slipped one fastening from its seat and he grabbed her errant hand, bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss.
"Callie," he said, his voice thick with warning as she set her free hand to the second button on his coat.
"What if I want the rogue, Gabriel?" the question was soft and sweet.
"What are you saying?"
She kissed across the firm square line of his jaw and whispered to him, shyness in her shaking voice, "Take me to bed, Gabriel. Give me a taste of scandal. — Sarah MacLean

You're wrong," Lord Dudley said. "You've always been a fool."
"The fool thinks he is wise," G retorted. "But the wise man knows himself to be a fool."
That was a great line, he thought. He tried to remember where he'd stashed the quill and paper. — Cynthia Hand