If You Hold My Hand Quotes & Sayings

Grab hold of the headboard with your one hand, for stability," I tell her. She does but her pussy is still about an inch too high. I think she's afraid she's going to break my face or something, but if anything is breaking off it's my dick because it is so goddamned hard right now a stiff wind could shatter it. "Lower baby. Sit on me." "Won't I suffocate you?" she worries but lowers until that juicy pussy is resting right on top of my mouth. "Oh, baby, if only. — Jessica Clare

I wish to try my hand at a novel," he said. "Just scribbling, I assure you, but it strikes me as such a noble art, requiring none of the monetary resources of opera or drama, nor the erudition of poetry. Perchance a publisher could be found. I'd be satisfied by the printing of even a score of copies, if only to hold the bound work in my hands. It gives a unique satisfaction, I assume, the writing of a novel. — Kyle Muntz

Lia let out a low growl and moved her arrow to the base of his fat throat. "What do you think, Gabi? Would you like to see these nuptials through?"
"Not this day," I said
"How about on the morrow?" Marcello asked, smiling and lifting my hand to his lips. "If I am your groom?"
"Hold that eHarmony thought," Lia whispered in English. "We gotta get out of here. — Lisa Tawn Bergren

Calm now," I said with my lips to his ear and my hand to the side of his face. I knew he was thinking of Bad Axe, straining against a distant memory. In a lucid instant, he gripped my hand and searched my face. I felt him fighting to hold to this life, at great sufferance to himself.
I whispered, "Don't struggle for me, Henry, not if you are tired and wish to go."
I pressed my lips to his cheek, touched my finger to the corners of his eyes to brush away the moisture there.
"Husband?" I asked, searching his face, wondering why, suddenly, it had changed so.
All that night, I kept watch over him.
Even though he had gone, I did not want him to believe that such a small thing as the end of living could ever separate the two of us. — Micaela Gilchrist

Lisa, if I could take that hurt from you and carry it for the rest of my life, I would. I know that's not how life works, but know I'd do it in an instant. If I could take all that guilt and shame? There would be no hesitation, but because I can't, at least let me hold your hand while you walk through it. — Rachel Van Dyken

Put out my eyes, and I can see you still;
slam my ears to, and I can hear you yet;
and without any feet can go to you;
and tongueless, I can conjure you at will.
Break off my arms, I shall take hold of you
and grasp you with my heart as with a hand;
arrest my heart, my brain will beat as true;
and if you set this brain of mine afire,
upon my blood I then will carry you. — Rainer Maria Rilke

One of the cardinal features of the Buddha's teaching is that all life, however solid it may seem to be, and all things, however separate they may seem to be, are in a state of flux. That is to say that the world we live in doesn't consist so much of things or entities as it consists of process. Everything is in a constant state of flowing pattern. By way of illustration you might say that it's something like the flowing pattern you see when you look at smoke: a dancing, constantly changing arabesque of pattern; flowing, flowing, all the time. Or that the substance of life is something like water, which I can hold in my hand so long as I cup it gently, but if I clutch at the water, I immediately lose it. — Alan W. Watts

Bridgewater Hall
Again, the endless northern rain between us
like a veil. Tonight, I know exactly where you are,
which row, which seat. I stand at my back door.
The light pollution blindfolds every star.
I hold my hand out to the rain, simply to feel it, wet
and literal. It spills and tumbles in my palm,
a broken rosary. Devotion to you lets me see
the concert hall, lit up, the other side of town,
then see you leave there, one of hundreds in the dark,
your black umbrella raised. If rain were words, could talk,
somehow, against your skin, I'd say look up, let it utter
on your face. Now hear my love for you. Now walk. — Carol Ann Duffy

Everybody says "" I Love You "" Is the best
sentence in whole world ...
But ...
I believe that ...
""I Love you too""
is the Best ...
Because Many Gets To hear the first one But
only few gets to hear the second one.
Awesome Words By A LOVER ... !!!
"My One Hand Is Enough To
Fight Against The World
If You Hold The Other One
When A Couple Fights Too
Much
But
Never Ended Up With Breaking
Up,
Then They Are Really In
Love..!! — Abdul'Rauf Hashmi

I go out on the porch and gaze up at the stars twinkling above, the random scattering of millions of stars. Even in a planetarium you wouldn't find as many. Some of them really look big and distinct, like if you reached your hand out intently you could touch them. The whole thing is breathtaking. Not just beautiful though
the stars like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me. What I've done up till now, what I'm going to do
they know it all. Nothing gets past their watchful eyes. As I sit there under the shining night sky, again a violent fear takes hold of me. My heart's pounding a mile a minute, and I can barely breathe. All these millions of stars looking down on me, and I've never given them more than a passing thought before. Bot just stars
how many other things haven't I noticed in the world, things I know nothing about? I suddenly feel helpless, completely powerless. And I know I'll never outrun that awful feeling. (135) — Haruki Murakami

Also, I'm not going to be
devastated or anything either way. I'm not that kind of person. I just think if you don't say the
honest thing, sometimes the honest thing never becomes true, you know, and I - she says,
but then I hold up my finger, because I need to hear the thing she just said, and she talks too
fast for me to keep up. I keep holding up my hand, thinking if you don't say the honest thing, it
never becomes true. — David Levithan

Shit! Raine, if you do that again, I'm going to come all over you."
"I'm sorry!"
"Don't be," I growled, nuzzling against her nipple with my lips. "It feels so good ... your little hand trying to hold on to me."
"I still don't know how you're going to fit," she whispered, stroking me slowly again.
"I'm going to make you come," I told her. "Then you are going to be so wet and ready for me, I'm going to just slide right into you. — Shay Savage

He said you have to be on the side of the losers, the people with bad lungs. You have to be with those who are homesick and can't breathe very well in Ireland. He said it makes no sense to hold a stone in your hand. A lot more people would be homeless if you speak the killer language. He said Ireland has more than one story. We are the German-Irish story. We are the English-Irish story, too. My father has one soft foot and one hard foot, one good ear and one bad ear, and we have one Irish foot and one German foot and a right arm in English. We are the brack children. Brack, homemade Irish bread with German raisins. We are the brack people and we don't have just one language and one history. We sleep in German and we dream in Irish. We laugh in Irish and we cry in German. We are silent in German and we speak in English. We are the speckled people. — Hugo Hamilton

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? — Edgar Allan Poe

escape. Please hold my hand. My gret grandma seys that if you die holding the hand of the one ya love, you'll — Rowan Wisce

As the rain hides the stars, as the autumn mist hides the hills, as the clouds veil the blue of the sky, so the dark happenings of my lot hide the shining of Your face from me. Yet, if I may hold Your hand in the darkness, it is enough. Since I know that, though I may stumble in my going, You do not fall. (Gaelic Prayer) — Alistair MacLean

And I'm just thinking he doesn't have the right to guilt-trip me about this when he says, "I'm not out to make you feel bad. You were upset, and it's only natural you'd seek out comfort. It's just . . ."
"You needed comfort, too."
"Yeah. I'm not asking you to hold my hand and tuck me into bed at night, not that I'll argue if you find yourself so inclined. But we're partners until this is over, and I'd like to think that you at least consider me a friend - oh, Kate, don't cry, okay? You look like a shamed pup, and I never want to make you feel that way. If you cry, I'll end up crying, too. — Rysa Walker

It may be you hold him with a feeble hand; you half think it presumption to say, "He lives as my Redeemer;" yet, remember if you have but faith as a grain of mustard seed, that little faith entitles you to say it. But there is also another word here, expressive of Job's strong confidence, "I know." To say, "I hope so, I trust so" is comfortable; and there are thousands in the fold of Jesus who hardly ever get much further. But to reach the essence of consolation you must say, "I know. — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

But I also slaughtered you real mother and father. In a moment of mad rage, I took their lives and left you an orphan. If you choose to take my life as a payment for theirs, you will be within your rights and no vampire will hold it against you. Pass judgment on me, Gavner Purl, and let your hand rise or fall as destiny decides it must. -Larten Crepsley — Darren Shan

(Divorce)
We'll remarry someday when we've grown,
Like royalty who've earned the throne.
An aisle made of gold,
To have and to hold.
My dress made of rags,
A suit that's so torn.
All eyes are on me,
But mine only on you.
You give your hand,
A king to his queen,
But know this darling,
Mulligans aren't for the weak.
By changing the rules,
We're changing the war,
The wounds that we've known,
Battle stains on the floor.
But from this day on,
The same as before,
You are the apple,
My eyes still adore.
Worth more than one shot,
Though we'll face the worst a lot,
Better days will come,
If we stay and don't run.
And if a wave takes us out,
I know we'll figure it out.
And if the current takes us in,
I know we'll do it all again. — Crystal Woods

Edward shifted from one foot to the other, then headed to one of the younger knights from Carrick, leading his horse and their father's white mare. 'Sir Duncan, will you hold the horses?' 'That's your task, Master Edward,' chided the knight.
John de Warenne had ascended the platform beside Bishop Bek and was addressing the assembly. There were more men than benches and those who hadn't found a place had crowded in behind. Robert could no longer see his father and grandfather. He glanced round as Edward spoke again.
'Please, Duncan.' 'Why?' Edward paused. 'If you do, I won't tell my father you once tried to kiss Isabel.' The knight laughed. 'Your sister? I've never even spoken to her.' 'My father doesn't know that.' 'You're jesting,' said the knight, but his smile had disappeared. Edward didn't respond. The young knight's face tightened, but he held out his hand to take the reins. 'Wherever you're going, you had better be back here before the earl. — Robyn Young

Why can't I find you? I know you're out there.
Why am I forced to live a life of despair?
I want to find you and hold your hand.
My heart beats for you it's all I can stand.
I know I will find you and hope someday soon.
Until then I will think of you and stare at the moon.
I know my heart beats for you and you alone.
Until then it's heavy and feels like stone.
I want to hold you in my arms and whisper a soft word.
The feeling of your touch would make my soul be stirred.
For this is a dream and it will never be.
If only you knew I'm out here and could see.
For I am lonesome for you and want this so much.
To feel your skin on mine as we touch.
I long for the day we meet and you're part of my life.
For until you do this solitude cuts me like a knife.
John A Miller — John A. Miller

Or, you know, you could interview the perfectly willing Epic walking beside you."
I coughed into my hand. "Well, um, this scheme may have started because I was thinking about how to rescue you from your powers. I figured if I knew how long it took, and what was required to hold an Epic ... You know. It might help you."
"Aw," she said. "That has to be the sweetest way someone has ever told me they were planning to kidnap and imprison me. — Brandon Sanderson

Only after the words were spoken did she realize what she had said. "My sins are all your fault, Brodick, and if I have to go to purgatory, then by God, you're going with me. Ramsey, if you do not stop laughing,I swear I shall toss you over this cliff."
"Do you love him, lass?" Father asked.
"I do not," she answered emphatically.
"It isn't a requirement," Laggan pointed out.
"I should hope not," she cried.
"But it would make your life easier," he countered.
"Gillian, you will tell the truth," Brodick demanded.
He grabbed hold of her hand. She tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go.
"I have told the truth. I don't love Ramsey, and if he doesn't stop laughing at me, the Sinclairs will soon be looking for a new laird."
"Not Ramsey," Laggan shouted so he could be heard over Ramsey's laughter. "I'm asking you if you love Brodick."
"Did you tell Father I love you? Who else did you tell? — Julie Garwood

I obey. He tosses my jeans aside and settles between my legs and grabs hold of my wrists again. With his other hand, he lubes up his dick, then guides it to the place that aches for him. "Fucking fuck me," I beg. Humor dances in his eyes. "I'm not going to fuck you." Now I'm groaning again. Goddamn it. If he plans on torturing me again, I really will lose my mind - "I'm going to make love to you," he finishes. My breath hitches. Smiling, Wes drops his mouth to mine. Our lips lock at the same moment he slowly slides inside me. The burn of pleasure makes me gasp but he swallows the sound with a soft, sweet kiss that matches the soft, sweet strokes of his cock. He fills me. Completes me. My dick is an iron spike against my belly, and I struggle against the tight band of his fingers around my wrists. — Sarina Bowen

Extinguish my eyes, I'll go on seeing you.
Seal my ears, I'll go on hearing you.
And without feet I can make my way to you,
without a mouth I can swear your name.
Break off my arms, I'll take hold of you
with my heart as with a hand.
Stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat.
And if you consume my brain with fire,
I'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood. — Rainer Maria Rilke

He took a hold of her hand and brought it to his chest. "Do you feel that?"
"Your heart?" At his nod, she replied, "Yes."
"It's beating just for you. From the first moment I saw you, it was yours. And, until my last breath on this Earth, it will belong to you." He brought his hand to her chest and placed it over her heart. "Now, I need to know if yours belongs to me. Not a part, but the whole thing. A person can't live with half a heart. I need your whole heart to survive. — Sarah Curtis

My real dad would never be this rude, I just know it. Even if he was angry, he would hold up his hand to apologise. I would hold up my hand to apologise, and he would hold up his hand even higher to take more of the blame, but I would hold up my hand highest of all to show that it was actually my fault. And with our fingers almost scraping the sky we would smile identical smiles then he would gasp, "It's you!" "Yes!" I would reply, and then we would embrace...' - ppg 10 — Annabel Pitcher

Please be careful," he repeated. "Come back safe."
"I will." On impulse I took off my cross necklace and pressed it into his hand. "This time, keep it for real. Hold onto it until I return. If you get too worried, look at it and know that I'll have to come back for it. It goes really well with khakis and neutral colors. — Richelle Mead

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven
Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven
I'll find my way, through night and day
Cause I know I just can't stay
Here in heaven — Eric Clapton

Rare and precious moments, how I long to live with you eternally! If only your sweetness never ceased to touch my lips, and the flutters you evoke nevermore faded away. I dream of your arm extended immeasurably to keep hold of my reaching hand.
But Father Time, being a cruel master, will not grant such a wish.
And so I tuck you away as cherished memories, stored in a treasure box buried in my heart. And in times of solitude, I shall bring you out to view like rainbows. — Richelle E. Goodrich

I'll turn on the music;
if your willing to dance,
I'll walk beside you;
If you hold my hand,
I'll supply the candle;
But you must know how to light
your own way ,
I'll keep you wild,
If you keep me safe.
I'll help you unpack,
But i won't carry the load;
Help me learn to love unconditionally,
And I'll teach you to grow.
Love isn't easy, but it never should be hard;
Live courageous with me, passion in our hearts. — Nikki Rowe

Toby smiled and started to speak, but Josh adjusted his hold on Tank and reached back, covering Toby's mouth.
"Wait," Grace said. "I think he was going to actually use words."
"Yeah, but trust me, you don't want to hear them."
Toby pulled Josh's hand away. "Are you my new mommy?"
Grace's mouth fell open in shock, and Toby giggled at the sight.
"Okay, Tiger," Josh said. "You know I love the sound of your laugh, probably more than any sound in the world, but I will squash you like a grape if you say that to one more woman today. — Jill Shalvis

Ildiko tried to embrace him and frowned when he stepped out of reach, still retaining his hold on her hand.

"I'm filthy, wife, and need a bath of my own." His nostrils flared, and his voice lowered to a more guttural timbre. "Lover of thorns, but you smell good enough to eat."

She arched an eyebrow and glanced at the platters on the table. "Considering our people's respective histories, not to mention that wolf smile when you say such a thing, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or scream for help. — Grace Draven

If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me hold your hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will give me more courage." As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt in them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn young fingers, and touched his lips.
"Are you dying for him?" she whispered.
"And his wife and child. Hush! Yes."
"Oh, you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?"
"Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last. — Charles Dickens

We laughed and laughed and passed the bong around each other taking turns to burn our lungs. The room was smokier than ever before and it was late in the afternoon when I realised I was stuck.
I was stuck to the sofa like glue. My whole body sank deeper and deeper into the material. My blood felt like liquid lead in my limbs as if lifting my arm could not be possible without a powerful crane. My mind drifted to the big cranes you see on building sites and I imagined it attempting to lift my arm as it buckled under the weight.
I closed my eyes unable to hold my eyelids open anymore. My body sank even deeper as if the sofa was melting chocolate and my body heat was melting it beneath me. It began to feel like thick treacle beneath me as if it would stick to me making it harder for me to move or get up then I felt his hand again. — Nicci Greene

She looked Con up and down ... "I went to do your stupid ass a favor. Next time I'll decline."
She started to turn away when his hand wrapped around her arm to hold her. Rhi looked down at his fingers, then at his face.
"I doona trust you."
"You never have," she responded coolly. "This is nothing new."
He yanked her close so that their faces were inches apart. "If you betray us, there's nowhere you can hid where I won't find you. And kill you."
She smiled, briefly debating putting her lips to his and seeing his reaction. Right before she teleported away, she said, "Kiss my grits. — Donna Grant

If you prefer smoke over fire
then get up now and leave.
For I do not intend to perfume
your mind's clothing
with more sooty knowledge.

No, I have something else in mind.
Today I hold a flame in my left hand
and a sword in my right.
There will be no damage control today.

For God is in a mood
to plunder your riches and
fling you nakedly
into such breathtaking poverty
that all that will be left of you
will be a tendency to shine.

So don't just sit around this flame
choking on your mind.
For this is no campfire song
to mindlessly mantra yourself to sleep with.

Jump now into the space
between thoughts
and exit this dream
before I burn the damn place down. — Adyashanti

I did not run to him, but I did wrap my arms around him, press my ear to his chest, hold on to him as if he were the last solid thing in the world. He stroked my hair and murmured to me in French. I understood enough to know he was glad to see me and that he thought I looked beautiful. But beyond that it was just pretty noise.
It wasn't until I felt Zerbrowski behind me that I pulled away, but when Jean-Claude's hand found mine, I welcomed it.
Zerbrowski was looking at me as if he'd never seen me before. "What?" It came out hostile.
"I've never seen you be that ... soft with anyone before."
It startled me. "You've seen me kiss Richard before."
He nodded. "That was lust. This is ... " He shook his head, glancing up at Jean-Claude, then back to me. "He makes you feel safe. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Then they began saying, "Get hold of him. Put him in Mercury." Now as you know I have two sculptures by Brancusi and several pretty things and I did not want them to start getting rough, so I said, pacifically, "Dear sweet clodhoppers, if you knew anything of sexual psychology you would know that nothing could give me keener pleasure than to be manhandled by you meaty boys. It would be an ecstasy of the very naughtiest kind. So if any of you wishes to be my partner in joy come and seize me. If, on the other hand, you simply wish to satisfy some obscure and less easily classified libido and see me bathe, come with me quietly, dear louts, to the fountain. — Evelyn Waugh

I love you. I love the way you rub the scar on the back of your hand when you're nervous. I love the way you make a sword into a living part of your body. I love the way you burn your eyes into me, as if you're seeing me fresh every time. I love the black streak in you that wants to kill the world, and the soft streak that is sorry afterward. I love the way you laugh, as if you're surprised that you can laugh at all. I love the way you kiss my breath away. I love the way you breathe and speak and smile. I love the way you take the air out of my lungs when you hold me. I love the way you make a dance out of death. I love the confusion I see in your eyes when you realize you are happy. I love every muscle and bone in your body, every twist and bend in your soul. — Kate Quinn

Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, all in all,
I should know what God and man is. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

You'll not go anywhere," he announced. "Yes, I will," she said, through gritted teeth. "You'll use a chamber pot." "I will not!" He thrust his hand in front of her face. The heavy silver ring sat prominently on his middle finger. "This says you'll obey me," he growled. "You'll use the chamber pot because I command you to do so!" "You'll have to hold me there and that just isn't going to happen," Jessica argued. "What is the difference between that and - " "Richard!" He made a sound of impatience. "'Tis nothing to be ashamed of, Jessica. I would expect the same care from you. And if memory serves, I had it when I had the fever before. Isn't that so?" "It was different." "Aye, 'twas me with my arse bared to the daylight! — Lynn Kurland

No one has to know until we adopt in a few years. I'm sure there are loads of damn babies waiting for parents to buy them. We will be fine."

I know she hasn't accepted my offer of marriage, or even being in a relationship with me, but I hope she doesn't use this opportunity to remind me of that.

She laughs softly. "Damn babies? Please tell me you don't think there is a store somewhere downtown where you walk in and purchase a baby?" She lifts her hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing at me.

"There isn't?" I joke. "What's Babies 'R' Us, then?"

"Oh my goodness!" She tilts her head back in laughter.

I reach across the small space between us and grab hold of her hand. "If that damn store isn't full of babies, lined up, ready for purchase, than I'm suing for false advertisement. — Anna Todd

You have games on there?" he asks.
"Yeah," I answer for her. "She's become a checkers fanatic. Shelley, show him how it works."
While Shelley slowly taps the screen with her knuckles, Alex watches, seemingly fascinated.
When the checkers screen comes up, Shelley nudges Alex's hand.
"You go first," he says.
She shakes her head.
"She wants you to go first," I tell him.
"Cool." He taps the screen.
I watch, getting all mushy inside, as this tough guy plays quietly with my big sister.
"Do you mind if I make a snack for her?" I say, desperate to leave the room.
"Nah, go ahead," he says, his concentration on the game.
"You don't have to let her win," I say before leaving. "She can hold her own in checkers."
"Uh, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I am tryin' to win," Alex says. He has a genuine grin on his face, without trying to act cocky or cool. — Simone Elkeles

In the black hour before dawn, they stopped to let the horses drink and fed them each a handful of oats and a twist or two of hay. "We are not far from the place the wildlings died," said Qhorin. "From there, one man could hold a hundred. The right man." He looked at Squire Dalbridge.
The squire bowed his head. "Leave me as many arrows as you can spare, brothers." He stroked his longbow. "And see my garron has an apple when you're home. He's earned it, poor beastie." He's staying to die, Jon realized.
Qhorin clasped the squire's forearm with a gloved hand. "If the eagle flies down for a look at you..."
"...he'll sprout some new feathers. — George R R Martin

I seem to wish to have some importance
In the play of time. If not,
Then sad was my mother's pain, my breath, my bones,
My web of nerves, my wondering brain,
to be shaped and quickened with such anticipation
Only to feed the swamp of space.
What is deep, as love is deep, I'll have
Deeply. What is good, as love is good,
I'll have well. Then if time and space
Have any purpose, I shall belong to it.
If not, if all is a pretty fiction
To distract the cherubim and seraphim
Who so continually do cry, the least
I can do is to fill the curled shell of the world
With human deep-sea sound, and hold it to
The ear of God, until he has appetite
To taste our salt sorrow on his lips.
And so you see it might be better to die.
Though, on the other hand, I admit it might
Be immensely foolish. — Christopher Fry

If you think it means I'm asking you to move in with me, you'd be right." Her expression turned more serious. "If you also think it means that I wake up every morning wondering what I did to deserve having you back in my life, well, you'd be right about that, too."
Jack just sat there for a moment, just ... stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him.
"Come here," he said huskily. He grabbed her chair and pulled it toward his. He kissed her, softly at first, then his hand moved to her back and pushed her close as his emotions got the better of him. He pulled back to hold her gaze. "I love you, Cameron. You know that, right?"
She kissed him back, whispering the words in his ear. "I love you, too. — Julie James

The waves are high and the sunset's red.
So now it's time to go to bed.
The tide is up and the wind does rip.
But this old ship'll never tip.
We're far at sea, days from land.
But if you're scared just take my hand.
Just hold on tight Boy-o-mine.
In my arms you'll be just fine.
The moon is full and the sea is deep.
And we rock and rock and rock to sleep. — Jeff Lemire

Why won't you hold me?" I ask, drawing back a little.
He laughs a little, holds out his hands as if in explanation. They are covered in dirt and paint and blood.
I pull his hand to mine, put my palm against his. I can feel the grit of sand, the slick of paint, and the cuts and scrapes that speak of his own journey.
"It will all come clean," I tell him. — Ally Condie

Jeremy's T-Shirts by book:
Hard As It Gets
"ROUTE 69"
"This guy loves BACON" with two hands with their thumbs pointing back at him
"Orgasm Donor" with a red cross
Big Johnson's Tattoo Parlor, "You're going to feel more than a Little Prick"
"I'm not Santa but you can still sit on my lap"

Hard As You Can
Log-holding beaver that says, "Are you looking at my wood?"
"I put the long in schlong"

Hard to Hold On To
"Blink if you're horny"

Hard to Come By
Hand pointing downward and the words, "May I suggest the sausage?"
Charlie (who starts borrowing Jeremy's t-shirts): A smiling fire extinguished that says, "I put out"
Charlie: Schnauzer wearing a saddle that says, "Weiner Rides, 25 cents"
"HEAD Foundation. Please give generously"
Charlie: Mr. T with the words "Mr. T Shirt"
There's a party in my pants. You're invited. — Laura Kaye

I don't want to lose you."
He reaches for my hand and pulls me to him. "You are not going to lose me," he says, peering down at me. "I promise."
I want to believe him so badly. I need to believe him. "What if you lose me?"
He smiles at me, his grip hard. "Then I'll just hold on tighter. — Karina Halle

I'm somewhat disgusted at myself for thinking such dramatic, girlie thoughts. But I can't help myself. He rocks my world.
You know how parents always say things like, "If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?"
Well, if Carter jumped off a cliff, I wouldn't just jump off after him. I'd throw myself over the ledge and dive toward the earth below so I could catch up with him and hold his hand while we plummeted to our deaths.
Yeah.
I'm that much of a sicko. — Chelsea Fine

If you see me with my face all black, don't be frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the whole sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse than Mrs. Bill, the blacksmith's wife - even if you see me looking in at people's windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener's wife - you must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, diamond, if I change into a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, for my hand will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, you will know who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can't see me the least like the North Wind. I may look something very awful. Do you understand? — George MacDonald

Now, Bill, sit where you are," said the beggar. "If I can't see, I can hear a finger stirring. Business is business. Hold out your right hand. Boy, take his right hand by the wrist and bring it near my right."
We both obeyed him to the letter, and I saw him pass something from the hollow of the hand that held his stick into the palm of the captain's, which closed upon it instantly. — Robert Louis Stevenson

Miss Dartle,' I returned, 'how shall I tell you, so that you will believe me, that I know of nothing in Steerforth different from what there was when I first came here? I can think of nothing. I firmly believe there is nothing. I hardly understand even what you mean.' As she still stood looking fixedly at me, a twitching or throbbing, from which I could not dissociate the idea of pain, came into that cruel mark; and lifted up the corner of her lip as if with scorn, or with a pity that despised its object. She put her hand upon it hurriedly - a hand so thin and delicate, that when I had seen her hold it up before the fire to shade her face, I had compared it in my thoughts to fine porcelain - and saying, in a quick, fierce, passionate way, 'I swear you to secrecy about this!' said not a word more. — Charles Dickens

It's all about control. Control is illusory. No matter what university you go to, no matter what degree you hold, if your goal is to become master of your own destiny, you have more to learn. Parkinson's is a perfect metaphor for lack of control. Every unwanted movement in my hand or arm, every twitch that I cannot anticipate or arrest, is a reminder that even in the domain of my own being, I am not calling the shots. I tried to exert control by drinking myself to a place of indifference, which just exacerbated the sense of miserable hopelessness. — Michael J. Fox

If you ever have to give a speech, start with a joke, if you know one. For years I've been looking for the best joke in the world. I think I know what it is. I will tell it to you, but you have to help me. You have to say, "No," when I hold up my hand like this. All right? Don't let me down.
Do you know why cream is so much more expensive than milk?
AUDIENCE: No.
It is because the cows hate to squat on those bottles. — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

I don't live with people, that's why my relationships last. I'm not romantic. Even when I was a teenager if somebody asked if they could hold my hand I'd say, - no, it's not heavy, I can hold it myself, thank you'. — Paul O'Grady

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood,
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm'd. See, here it is
I hold it towards you. — John Keats

Loneliness is holding the one you love
When you know you might never hold him again.
Even lost in the darkness
My heart will find you
The soul die at the hand of the one who carries it.
If I could find a place to run away
Hidden safely, I would be there today.
The darkest daylight finds me. — Kami Garcia

Are you sure you've never dated girls before? You're awfully good at this."
Hunter's gaze returned to me. I could see some of that hated anger still in her eyes. "Kissing?"
I couldn't help laughing. "That, top. But I meant facing off against the Purity Crusader over there," I clarified. "I've been with women who were too afraid to even hold my hand in public."
I don't see it as a big deal," Hunter replied. "It shouldn't matter if a person is straight or gay or something in between. If I want to show i care about someone, I shouldn't have to hide it. — Eliza Lentzski

I don't understand." Except, truthfully, I just didn't want to understand.
Pain shadowed across his face. "Darkness lives in me, Theia. Inside of me. Like a sickness. And right next to it, intertwined with it, are my feelings for you. If I act on one, I'll act on the other. The darkness in me wants you the way a black hole eats stars. I dream of tasting you, devouring you." His eyes darkened terribly.
"Haden, stop trying to frighten me."
He carried on as if he hadn't heard me. "This isn't a crush; it's an obsession. You are never not in my thoughts. Your scent carries across a room and paralyzes me with longing. I don't want to hold your hand. Part of me wants to set you on fire and hold you while the flame consumes us both, to eat your heart so I know that only I possess it entirely. Are you scared now? Does your human mind comprehend the danger at last? I'm not like you. I'm not human, not completely anyway. — Gwen Hayes

I shut up everything inside. Everything." Words ground out through clenched teeth. "I thought if I could hold it, just hold it, it would be fine. But it's not."
"Why?" she asked. "Why are you losing control so badly?"
The answer, when it came, broke Sascha's heart.
"Hawke." It was an almost soundless whisper.
"Oh, Sienna." She stroked her hand over the girl's hair, even as her mind worked at piercing speed. "Has it been cumulative?"
Sienna nodded. "The second I met him, everything crumbled, my shields, my conditioning, everything! — Nalini Singh

He spoke just beneath her ear, his voice thick with tormented pleasure. "You have to leave, Sara ... because I want to hold you like this until your skin melts into mine. I want you in my bed, the smell of you on my sheets, your hair spread across my pillow. I want to take your innocence. God! I want to ruin you for anyone else."
Blindly Sara flattened her hand on his cheek, against the scratch of newly grown beard. "What if I want the same?" she whispered. — Lisa Kleypas

How do you know if you are a writer? For once, I am going to answer a question as directly as I am able. My answer goes like this. You know that you are a writer if you are imaginative. You know that you are a writer if you are curious. You know that you are a writer if you are interested in the things and people of the world. You know that you are a writer if you hold a minie ball in your hand and wonder about its story. You know that you are a writer if you like the sound of rain on the roof. And if you want to tell someone else about your heart and how waiting for the thunder sometimes makes you feel, if you work to find the words to do that, then you are a writer. " -Maureen — Kate DiCamillo

There was a movement to my right, and I snuck a quick glance to see Zee and Gabriel coming out the garage door. They must have gone back around. Zee had a crowbar in one hand and held it like another man might hold a sword. Gabriel had
"Zee," I squeaked. "Tell him to put the torque wrench back and grab something that won't cost me five hundred dollars if he hits someone with it."
"Won't cost five hundred," said Zee, but as I glanced over again, he nodded at the white-faced Gabriel, who looked at what he held as if he'd never seen it before. The boy slipped back into the garage as Zee said, "It wouldn't break it - you'd just have to get it recalibrated."
"We have a whole garage worth of tools - pry bars, tire irons, and even a hammer or two. There's got to be something better than my torque wrench he could have grabbed. — Patricia Briggs

Later, as I attempted to lean over the high sides of the hospital
bed to kiss David, I couldn't reach either his forehead or his lips, so
I began kissing the length of his arm.
"I love you," I told him before I was ready to leave for the night.
His beautiful brown eyes locked with mine.
"Thank you," he replied simply, grabbing hold of my hand with
his. I brought it to my lips in response.
Thank you, as if my love were a great gift to him, when all along
his love was the gift to me. — Mary Potter Kenyon

I could lie there as long as I wanted, and let all the pictures of things a man might want run through my head, coffee, a girl, money, a drink, white sand and blue water, and let them all slide off, one after another, like a deck of cards slewing slowly off your hand. Maybe the things you want are like cards. You don't want them for themselves, really, though you think you do. You don't want a card because you want the card, but because in a perfectly arbitrary system of rules and values and in a special combination of which you already hold a part the card has meaning. But suppose you aren't sitting in a game. Then, even if you do know the rules, a card doesn't mean a thing. They all look alike. — Robert Penn Warren

If you currently travel abroad or plan to in the future, make sure you understand the cultural convention of the country that you are visiting. Particularly with regard to greetings. If someone gives you a weak hand-shake, don't grimace. If anyone takes your arm, don't wince. If you are in the Middle East and a person wants to hold your hand, hold it. If you are a man visiting Russia, don't be surprised when your male host kisses your cheek, rather than hand. All of these greetings are as natural as way to express genuine sentiments as an American handshake. I am honored when an Arab or Asian man offers to take my hand because I know that it is a sign of high respect and trust. Accepting these cultural differences is the first step to better understanding and embracing diversity. — Joe Navarro

But," I say, wetting my lips, "but if trust was a thing you could hold in your hand, I would give mine to you. I'd let you have it forever and never ask for it back. — Kristen Simmons

If love were the only thing, I
would follow you - in rags, if need be - to the world's end; for you hold
my heart in the hollow of your hand! But is love the only thing?
I know people write and talk as if it were. Perhaps, for some, Fate lets
it be. Ah, if I were one of them! But if love had been the only thing, you
would have let the King die in his cell.
Honour binds a woman too, Rudolf. My honour lies in being true to
my country and my House. I don't know why God has let me love you;
but I know that I must stay. — Anthony Hope

I know what I'm looking for, my brain just can't get to it. It's like if you decided you wanted that glass of water, only your hand won't pick it up. You ask it nicely, you threaten it, but it just won't budge. You might finally get it to move, but then you grab the saltshaker instead, or you knock the glass and spill the water all over the table. Or by the time you get your hand to hold the glass and bring it to your lips, the itch in your throat has cleared, and you don't need a drink anymore. The moment of need has passed." "That sounds like torture, Mom." "It is." "I'm so sorry you have this." "Thanks. — Lisa Genova

Jack,do me a favor?" I said.
"Anything,Becks."
"Don't let go of my hand. And if the Tunnels come for me,don't let go until the last moment."
"If the Tunnels come for you,I'll hold on, and they won't be able to take you."
I smiled at the sentiment, even though I knew that no one would be able to hold on. — Brodi Ashton

The warmth of your heart is tauntingly near, but you reserve it as you shut me out in the lizard of your doubt. Is it because you don't understand the freakish assembly of my soul, a soul that was once broken? In some ways I guess I don't blame you. if I had the opportunity to avoid the vague horizon of my future, I would. But these are the cards I've been dealt and I still don't know all the rules of the game. My burden is heavy and becomes harder to bear each day. I know I have the ability to endure it alone if I really persevere, but I prefer a steady hand to help guide me along the way and maybe even hold me in times of uncertainty. — Shykia Bell