My Right Hand Man Quotes & Sayings

About twenty pages into Luke B. Goebel's Fourteen Stories, None of Them Are Yours, I realized I was reading with one hand holding my forehead and one balled at my waist, kind of clenched, and gazing down into the paper like a man soon to be converged upon. Goebel's testimony comes on like that: engrossing, fanatical, full of private grief, and yet, at the same time, charismatic, tender, and intrepid, aglow with more spirit than most Americans have the right to wield. — Blake Butler

Zakhar Georgiyevich Travkin could have stopped right there! But no! Continuing his attempt to expunge his part in this and to stand erect before his own conscience, he rose from behind his desk--he had never stood up in my presence in my former life--and reached across the quarantine line that separated us and gave me his hand, although he would never have reached out his hand to me had I remained a free man. And pressing my hand, while his whole suite stood there in mute horror, showing that warmth that may appear in an habitually severe face, he said fearlessly and precisely:
'I wish you happiness, Captain! — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Jaime," Brienne whispered, so faintly he thought he was dreaming it. "Jaime, what are you doing?"
"Dying," he whispered back.
"No," she said, "no, you must live."
He wanted to laugh. "Stop telling me what to do, wench. I'll die if it pleases me."
"Are you so craven?"
The words shocked him. He was Jaime Lannister, a knight of the Kingsguard, he was the Kingslayer. No man had ever called him craven. Other things they called him, yes; oathbreaker, liar, murderer. They said he was cruel, treacherous, reckless. But never craven. "What else can I do, but die?"
"Live," she said, "live, and fight, and take revenge."
Craven, Jaime thought ... Can it be? They took my sword hand. Was that all I was, a sword hand? Gods be good, is it true?
The wench had the right of it. He could not die. — George R R Martin

Was he a good kisser, Ms. Lane?" Barrons asked, watching me carefully.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand at the memory. "It was like being owned."
Some women like that."
Not me."
Perhaps it depends on the man doing the owning."
I doubt it. I couldn't breathe with him kissing me."
One day you may kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence."
Right, and one day my prince might come."
I doubt he'll be a prince, Ms. Lane. Men rarely are. — Karen Marie Moning

Gurdinn ignored him, still speaking to the baron. "I would sooner soak my cock in honey and ask a bear not to bite than trust a Black Noose, my lord."
Braylar clapped and said, "I wouldn't have suspected you of such colorful wit, Captain Honeycock. You're a man of surprising gifts."
Gurdinn wheeled on him, hand on his sword. "Shut your mouth, right quick. — Jeff Salyards

Unhand her," said a voice behind her. A voice she had never before thought she would be glad to hear. A voice that was commanding, strong and deep.
Her eyes popped open and she whirled around to find the duke standing right behind her. The man made a grab for her but the duke had already caught her waist and deposited her behind him.
"Let us go and I will not inform the authorities," the duke suggested.
The man sneered, "Lady in mine."
"Dear fellow, I would love to hand you over this young lady with all my sympathies, believe me. But my sister and my mother would have my head. She, you see, belongs to them. — Anya Wylde

My dog and 'right hand man,' who recently passed, taught me that guardian angels and cycles tend to come in every form in the universe. He was 8 years old and saw me through 8 independent projects, from an unsure place to a confident one. And now I'm ready to fly. — Mya

I struggled not to laugh at the brand-new bottle of lube in his left hand and the unopened box of condoms in his right. He watched me, his expression dark.
"Just buy those?" I asked lightly.
He nodded once.
"Had it all worked out in your mind, did you?"
He nodded again.
"Have you ever fucked a man, Seven?"
He shook his head, his right hand squishing the box of condoms as he tightened his grip.
"And ... this is what you want?" I looked at his face then, watching for any signs of doubt. There were none as he nodded again.
I opened my arms. "Come here," I said softly. — T.J. Klune

Bruce is still my friend. We don't talk much. We don't have to. He is great and in his own league. I'm not him and he is not me. But we are on similar paths, writing and singing out own kind of songs around the world, along with Bob and a few other singer/songwriters. It is a a silent fraternity of sorts, occupying this space in people's souls with our music. Last year, I lost my right-hand man, the pedal steel guitarist Ben Keith. This year Bruce lost his right-hand man, the saxophonist Clarence Clemons. It's time for another talk; friends can help each other just by being there. Now both of us will look to our right and see a giant hole, a memory, the past and the future. I won't play with another steel player trying to recreate Ben's parts, and I know Bruce won't play with another sax man trying to play Clarence's. Those parts are not going to happen again. They already did. That takes a lot out of our repertoires. — Neil Young

Chase picked up the card. "I'm happy to share from my personal experience, if you like."
Temple grinned at his hand. "And I."
It was all too much. "I do not need advice. She enjoyed it immensely."
"I hear they don't all enjoy it right off the bat," Cross said.
"That is true," Chase said, all expertise.
"It's fine if she didn't, old man," Temple offered. "You can try again."
"She enjoyed it." Bourne's voice was low and tight, and he thought he might kill the next person who spoke.
"Well, one thing is for certain," Temple said, casually, and Bourne ignored the pang of disappointment that the enormous man was very likely the
only one at the table he could not kill. — Sarah MacLean

You're right. You and Millie look more like your mom," I said...
"That's because we spent more time with her," Henry said seriously, as if it were common knowledge, as if resemblances were based on nurture instead of nature. It was true, to a point. Mannerisms, quirks, style. All those things could be learned and copied.
"So if I spend a lot of time with Kathleen, do you think she'll start to look like me?" I asked him, steering the focus away from his father.
Henry looked doubtfully from me to my grunting, banana-bearded child and back again.
"I hope so," he said.
Georgia snickered, and I hooted and held my hand in the air so Henry could give me five.
"You hear that, Georgia? Henry hopes so," I crowed. "I guess that means your baby daddy is a beautiful man."
Henry obviously didn't mean to be funny, and he totally left me hanging. Georgia reached up and slapped my hand and winked at me. — Amy Harmon

Hello, Miya."
His smooth tone speaking my name made a warm sensation tingle across the surface of my body.
A hundred questions ran through my head, wanting to be spoken. How do they know who I am? Who are they? What do they want with me? I was a single, working-class associate professor with department store clothes. Surely they didn't think they would get much of a ransom for me. The expression on the man's face held me, and my demanding thoughts.
"We aren't going to harm you."
I smirked at him and glanced at my right arm, feeling its ache. My elbow might be badly bruised, but it wasn't broken. His eyes followed mine and he sighed.
"That was an accident." His tan, sinewy hand touched my wrist then delicately ran down my bones to my elbow. I flinched, but didn't feel any pain. — Derendrea

She stared heavenward and shook her head after finding out she'd sent me on a long-distance trip with the son of Lust.
But the detail that sent her over the edge was the fact that my father had me haunted by those demons. No matter how much I tried to explain that it was necessary for me to be able to see the spirits, she was livid. When three o'clock approached and her mood hadn't lightened, I started to worry.
When my dad arrived, Patti stood by the counter with her arms crossed. He appeared as large and frightening as ever. The kind of man nobody would dare to mess with.
Patti walked right up and smacked him across the face.
I jolted. He blinked. She stayed right in front of him and stabbed a finger at his chest, her other hand on her hip.
How dare you do that to her? I don't care what your reasons were. Did you hear her screaming? She was terrified! Don't you ever sic those monsters on her again. Ever! — Wendy Higgins

My daughter wants to throw a stone at a bad man. I stop her from throwing, shaking my head and giving her a little slap. My disapproval is complete. You think: 'That's right, she shouldn't throw a stone even at a villain.' Then I hand her a brick to throw. — W.C. Fields

I thought that it was 'cause I deserved the best and he's out there. He's just with all the wrong women. And let me be clear. After CENTURIES of men looking at my tits in stead of my eyes and pinching my ass instead of shaking my hand, I now have the *DIVINE* right to stare at a man's BACKSIDE with vulgar, cheap appreciation if I want to! — Cecelia Ahern

King looked back at Roland. "As The Man With No Name
a fantasy version of Clint Eastwood
you were okay. A lot of fun to partner up with."
"Is that how you think of it?"
"Yes. But then you changed. Right under my hand. It got so I couldn't tell if you were the hero, the antihero, or no hero at all. When you let the kid drop, that was the capper."
"You said you made me do that."
Looking Roland straight in the eyes
blue meeting blue amid the endless choir of voices
King said, "I lied, brother. — Stephen King

Reaching down, he grabbed the man's ring. "They're promise rings," he whispered. Picking up the woman's, he lifted my right hand. Sliding it on my finger, he softly said, "You wear one." He slipped the man's on the ring finger of his right hand. "And I wear one." Smiling contently, he shook his head. "And we promise that no one comes between us. That we . . . belong to each other, and only each other. — S.C. Stephens

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

Man to God: "I've let you down so many times."

God to man: "You weren't holding me up. I uphold you with My righteous right hand. That's how it works in this relationship. I - hold - you - up. — The Skit Guys

Vic, of course, clasped Max's hand, obviously sizing him up, doing that macho squeeze thing that drove Gina nuts. "He's younger than I remember," he said to Gina. Perfect. Thank you so much, Victor. Then, back to Max, "We met - very briefly - a few years ago. Looks like being shot has agreed with you."
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," Gina told the man who had just moved into first place as the most stupid of her three very stupid brothers.
"What?" Vic shrugged as he dragged over a chair. "I'm just saying - Max looks good. You know, for an older guy. What'd, ya lose weight while you were in the hospital?"
"Yes, Victor," Gina said. "They call it the Almost Dying Diet." She turned to Max. "My brother is an idiot."
"It's all right," he said, flexing his fingers - no doubt checking to make sure Victor hadn't broken his hand. — Suzanne Brockmann

I have to say that the situation didn't look very promising. There was a woman in the bed right enough. But there was a man there too. Fully clothed, enormous in midnight-blue serge suit and peaked cap, he knelt above her rhythmically slapping her face with a pendulum action of his heavy-gloved hand. No, this didn't look like our kind of thing at all. Warily John slipped out of his socks and shirt. You have to give him credit: he keeps his cool and works the percentages. Now the two mean moved strangely past each other; and with some diffidence John climbed into bed. The other guy stared at us, with raised, with churning face. Then he did some shouting and strode out of there - though he paused, and thoughtfully dimmed the lights, as he left the room. We heard his boots on the stairs. The lady clutched me.

"My husband!" she explained. — Martin Amis

I'll tell you an incident that happened right at the Brown Derby [restaurant] since I've been here in Honolulu," Armstrong tells a friend on one of the recordings. "You remember that white boy, he's a sailor or something, on one of these battleships, on Pearl Harbor, and he caught my show, and I come to find out he has damn near every record I made from childbirth. "He come up and shook my hand after the whole show was over . . . and he said, 'You know, I don't like Negroes.' "Right to my [expletive] face, that [expletive] told me. And so I said, 'Well, I admire your [expletive] sincerity.' "And he said, 'I don't like Negroes, but you're one [expletive] I'm crazy about. I've got every [expletive] record.' "I've said it for years. You take the majority of white people," continued Armstrong, "they always got one [expletive] at least that they're just crazy about, [expletive]. Every white man in the world got one [expletive] at least that they just love his dirty drawers. — Howard Reich

Here's your daddy," Emily whispered to the pink bundle in her arms. They had taken her away right after she was born to run some tests. They were worried about her heart, which had scared the shit out of me. Emily had held my hand and reassured me that our little girl would be OK. She prayed to God , so she was banking on the big man to save our baby. I wished I trusted him that much.

Glines, Abbi (2014-12-15). Kiro's Emily: A Rosemary Beach Novella (The Rosemary Beach Series Book 10) (Kindle Locations 1159-1162). Atria Books. Kindle Edition. — Abbi Glines

You're not a practiced hand at this. You've never really had a man and I get why. I fuckin' do. Down to my gut I do, baby. And we can go there when you're ready. Right now, all you have to know is, I'll make you tacos until you can't stand lookin' at them anymore, if that's what you want and I'll do it just because you want them. The bottom line is, you look out for me, I'll look out for you. I'll make you come as often as you want. I'll make you dinner, take you to dinner, take you to New York to see your friends, fly you to Paris 'cause you wanna eat snails, I don't give a fuck. But I won't do that in return for shit you do for me. That's what you give me. The only time it'll go bad is if you don't feel you get what you need from me and get it just because. — Kristen Ashley

You were right, you know," Ty whispered.
"About what?"
Ty swallowed hard. "I sold my soul a long time ago."
Ty gripped Zane's shoulder and pressed him down,
laying him out again, then stretched out over Zane, his hand
dragging down Zane's body to push at his boxers.
"Ty," Zane gasped.
Ty kissed him. Zane trailed the tips of his fingers down
Ty's arm, sliding over the tattoo and the scars and the muscles.
"Do you really believe that?" Zane asked.
"I know it. I will never be the man you think I am."
Zane's breaths came harder. "We've both been trying so
hard to be worthy of each other. — Abigail Roux

[Tuco is in a bubble bath. The One Armed Man enters the room.]
One Armed Man: I've been looking for you for 8 months. Whenever I should have had a gun in my right hand, I thought of you. Now I find you in exactly the position that suits me. I had lots of time to learn to shoot with my left.
[Tuco kills him with the gun he has hidden in the foam.]
Tuco: When you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk. — Sergio Leone

I've made it my business to observe fathers and daughters. And I've seen some incredible, beautiful things. Like the little girl who's not very cute - her teeth are funny, and her hair doesn't grow right, and she's got on thick glasses - but her father holds her hand and walks with her like she's a tiny angel that no one can touch. He gives her the best gift a woman can get in this world: protection. And the little girl learns to trust the man in her life. And all the things that the world expects from women - to be beautiful, to soothe the troubled spirit, heal the sick, care for the dying, send the greeting card, bake the cake - allof those things become the way we pay the father back for protecting us ... — Adriana Trigiani

One morning I woke up and found my favorite pigeon, Julius, had died I was devastated and was gonna use his crate as my stickball bat to honor him. I left the crate on my stoop and went in to get something and I returned to see the sanitation man put the crate into the crusher. I rushed him and caught him flush on the temple with a titanic right hand he was out cold, convulsing on the floor like an infantile retard. — Mike Tyson

You'll have sweet dreams?" he asked quietly and sounding like he cared, a lot.
God but I loved this man.
I felt my mouth smile and I pressed even closer.
"I'm a good girl, I always do what I'm told."
His hand left my hair so both his arms could wrap tight around me.
"Love you, Ace," he murmured and my stomach melted.
He said it. Right out.
He said it.
"Love you too, Captain. — Kristen Ashley

I try to muscle my way past but Eli's right-hand man, Pigpen, plants himself in front of me like the towering sack of testosterone and annoyance he is. — Katie McGarry

She waited until she and my grandfather Anthel were just home from their honeymoon, and then sat him down and told him this: "Honey, I know you like to take a drink, and that's all right, but be forewarned that I ain't your maid and I ain't your punching bag, and if you ever raise your hand to me you'd best kill me. Because otherwise I'll wait until you're asleep; sew you into the bed; and beat you to death with a frying pan." Until he died, I am told, my grandfather was a gentle man. — Haven Kimmel

I wanted to run, but I couldn't leave Ky. And I didn't want him to hear the sounds of people trying to save the man, or how Ky's own breathing sounded labored.
So I crouched down in front of Ky and covered one of his ears with my shaking hand, and then I leaned right up close to his other ear and I sang to him. I didn't even know I knew how. — Ally Condie

I raised my hand and asked if God was a spirit. And he said yes, He was. So I asked if it was right that a spirit was different from a person because it didn't have a body, wasn't material. And when he agreed, I asked how, if God was a spirit, He could be a man, if He didn't have a body or anything. — Donna Leon

I have seen an entire family lifted out of poverty and into affluence by the simple boon of a broken leg. I have had people come to me on crutches, with tears in their eyes, to bless this beneficient institution. In all my experiences of life, I have seen nothing so seraphic as the look that comes into a freshly mutilated man's face when he feels in his vest pocket with his remaining hand and finds his accident ticket all right. — Mark Twain

So often has my judgment deceived me in my life, that I always suspect it, right or wrong,
at least I am seldom hot upon cold subjects. For all this, I reverence truth as much as any body; andif a man will but take me by the hand, and go quietly and search for itI'll go to the world's end with him:MBut I hate disputes. — Laurence Sterne

I still remember many things about the man. 'He had plenty of goatees and a big pair of eyeglass, the colour of brown water. He was sitting in an office chair, which unintentionally swung him back and front, revealing his large stomach. As if he had perfectly balanced my age with my height, he asked me to raise my right hand above my head and touch my left ear. Pg. 12, Still Owing Me Goodbye — Obehi Peter Ewanfoh

I rolled my eyes at Kest. We'd heard this lecture many times before, but Trin hadn't, so she stepped right into it.
"Is it really so hard?" She asked
"My dear, not one man in a hundred can be a proper archer. And not one in ten thousand can become a master."
"And you are one? A master archer, i mean?"
Brasti smiled and contemplated the nails of his right hand. "One might fairly say so, i believe."
"One says so frequently," I observed. — Sebastien De Castell

Behind us, the man laughed. "Looks like we aren't the only ones looking for a little diversion. There's an empty office right over there, guys."
Marsten raised his hand in thanks. The couple moved on. I let the kiss continue for five more seconds, then pulled away.
"They're gone," I said.
Marsten frowned, as if surprised-and disappointed-that I'd noticed. I tugged my hair from his hands.
"Okay, coast clear," I said. "Let's go."
He let out a small laugh. "I see I need to brush up on my kissing."
"No, you have that down pat."
"She says with all the excitement of a teacher grading a math quiz ... "
"A-plus. Now let's move. Before someone else comes along. — Kelley Armstrong

I have defended Syria for a long time, so I was admiring Syria, I have admired your president very much. I hope at some point to be able to meet him and shake his hand. I think he is the greatest man in a very difficult period, and especially with what's going on right now, in terms of Lebanon and its relations with Syria. But absolutely, even from my perspective, and it shows you how the Zionist media around the world controls and affects all of us. Even those of us who are aware of it - it's subtly affecting. — David Duke

They're promise rings," he whispered. Picking up the woman's, he lifted my right hand. Sliding it on my finger, he softly said, "You wear one," he slipped the man's on the ring finger of his right hand, "and I wear one. — S.C. Stephens

My team members are Hector Soto, who is a boxing promoter and Vice-president of Miguel Cotto Promotions. He runs all my business. He was the person that my father left in charge of it all. Bryan Perez is my right-hand man. — Miguel Cotto

When I look at him, I don't see the cowardly young man who sold me out to Jeanine Matthews, and i don't hear the excuses he gave afterward.
When I look at him, I see the boy who held my hand in the hospital when our mother broke her wrist and told me it would be all right. I see the brother who told me to make my own choices, the night before the Choosing Ceremony. I think of all the remarkable things he is
smart and enthusiastic and observant, quiet and earnest and kind. — Veronica Roth

Emily sighed and looked to Simon. "Your brother is a hard man." Draven choked on his wine. She frowned. "Milord, are you all right?" she asked, pounding her hand on his back. "Fine," Draven said, then shrugged off her touch. "Your choice of words just caught me off guard." Once more Simon burst into laughter. "What?" she asked. Simon shook his head. "I'll leave it to my brother to explain to you just how hard a man he is." "Simon," he warned. "Don't growl at me when you instigated it."
-Emily, Draven & Simon — Kinley MacGregor

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 rub the ears of my dog, my stupid goddam ruddy great dog that I never wanted but who hung around anyway and who followed me thru the swamp and who bit Aaron when he was trying to choke me and who found Viola when she was lost and who's licking my hand with his little pink tongue and whose eye is still mostly squinted shut from where Mr. Prentiss Jr. kicked him and whose tail is way way shorter from where Matthew Lyle cut it off when my dog - my dog - went after a man with a machete to save me and who's right there when I need pulling back from the darkness I fall into and who tells me who I am whenever I forget. — Patrick Ness

I swear to be your man," I said, looking into his pale eyes, "until your family is safe."
He hesitated. I had given him the oath, but I had qualified it.
I had let him know that I would not remain his man for ever, but he accepted my terms. He should have kissed me on both cheeks, but that would have disturbed Aethelflaed and so he raised my right hand and kissed the knuckles, then kissed the crucifix.
"Thank you," he said.
The truth, of course, was that Alfred was finished, but, with the perversity and arrogance of foolish youth, I had just given him my oath and promised to fight for him.
And all, I think, because a six-year-old stared at me. And she had hair of gold. — Bernard Cornwell

TO MR. CYRIACK SKINNER UPON HIS BLINDNESS
Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
Or man or woman. Yet I argue not
Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?
The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd
In libertyes defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe talks from side to side.
This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask
Content though blind, had I no better guide. — John Milton

I remember seeing one elderly man look at us, and he held his hand out, and most frightening were his eyes, dark as a soulless abyss, so black that it looked as if it had been blasted from a cyclone. I felt he was looking right at me. For a moment, I thought I was looking through his sockets, past his brain and behind him; as the tears started rolling down my cheeks a godless universe was expanding within me. Then I became hysterical. — Alfred Nestor

Everything starts from home. If the father isn't there, then the friends are going to step up to influence the young boy astray. This is where the problems come in, because in my community the majority of the children do not have any fathers in the home. I can only speak for my community. This is why with the young guys who do hang around me, I always do my best to encourage them. I have already lived the negative side on the streets, so I prefer to encourage them on the positive side - to encourage them to get a job, save their money and to do something for their families.Franco 'Co' Bethel, former gang leader and right hand man to Scrooge. — Drexel Deal

Alec huffed and leaned to the right and lifted his hand to his face, pointed two fingers at his eyes then pointed the same two fingers at Storm. "I'm watching you, big man."

Storm farted in response.

I burst out laughing then fled the room before the death like smell filled my nose. — L.A. Casey

RICHIE: My journey has been steadfast: to be Jon's right-hand man. First and foremost, I try to always be there for him, as a friend, on a musical level, and from a business standpoint where he can use me as a mirror for himself. We've always looked to Frank and Dean. Frank was the Chairman and Dean was the right-hand man. That's the way it was. It was a dynamic duo. — Jon Bon Jovi

Cambodian dust whipped up in the wind and stuck to my clothes like clay. I put a hand between my face and the sun and blinked Phnom Penn dust from my tired eyes. One idea, drink, beamed light in all directions across my dark consciousness.
A slim lady walked toward me with a big smile and a bigger head. Her left hand rested on her waggling hips and her right hand rose above her head, limp-wristed, like she'd just thrown a winning ball toward a basket and was leaving her hand in the shot position. The lady walking toward me was a man. At least that much was clear, but the nature or our relationship was still a fog to me. She wore blue jeans and a white top accentuating her breasts, but her Adam's apple and cow sized hands revealed more in daylight than she could hide at night. — Craig Stone

Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin's arm. "There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man."
Anakin turned, and found within Obi-Wan's eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him then felt like a promise from the Force itself.
"I ... I wouldn't have it any other way, Master."
"I believe," his onetime Master said with a gently humorous look of astonishment at the words coming out of his mouth, "that you should get used to calling me Obi-Wan. — Matthew Woodring Stover

I don't know what they are. They aren't completely human, so I don't know what to call them." I pulled one of the bags over the man's head, then rolled it down to his waist. My fingers brushed Clare's; the feel of her skin sent a warm tingle firing up my arms. I met her gaze, and without thinking too much about it, I slid my right hand over hers. God, I had missed her.
"Owen, there is a dead body between us," she said, her gaze never straying from mine.
"Best be thankful for that, flower." I pushed down everything I wanted to say. There wasn't time, and her bloody kitchen definitely wasn't the place. — Elizabeth Morgan

I combat the errors of ages; I meet the violence of mobs; I cope with illegal proceedings from executive authority; I cut the gordian knot of powers, and I solve mathematical problems of universities, with truth-diamond truth; and God is my 'right hand man'. — Joseph Smith Jr.

Musicians in my day had nicknames. My name was "Satchel Mouth," like a doctor's satchel. When I went to England this fellow was strictly English, and he was editor of the newspaper there. He shook my hand after I got off the train and said, "Hello, Satchmo." So right away my trombone player said, "Mmm, the man thinks you have mo' mouth than Satchel Mouth." So I was stuck with it, and it turned out all right. — Louis Armstrong

Lozen is my right hand ... strong as a man , braver than most, and cunning in strategy, Lozen is a shield to her people. — Victorio

This is insane. You realize that, right?"
"Only if someone gets hurt."
"Someone always gets hurt, Hayes."
He said nothing as he slid his fingers in between mine, squeezing my hand. The intimacy of the gesture threw me. I had not held a man's hand since Daniel's, and Hayes's felt foreign. Large, smooth, capable; the coolness of an unexpected ring.
I shifted in my skirt, legs sticking to the leather cushion. I needed to get out of there, and yet I did not want it to end. — Robinne Lee

Michael held out his hand, and Kaden squeezed tighter than a typical handshake. The other man wiggled his hand free and then shot him an irritated glare.
So, this was the human trying to steal his Annabelle? He didn't look like much - a bit too skinny. She needed a man who could put his arms around her and make her feel safe.
Annabelle's my friend. I have no right to think of her as mine.
His heart pulsed a second time, and he startled. This wasn't happening. Annabelle couldn't be his? A human mate? He didn't understand. Two heartbeats. It had to mean something. — Stacey O'Neale

He pulled one of his brands out of the fire and stepped toward me, raising it. The sharp smell of red-hot metal made me sneeze--and when I looked up, the man's mouth was open with surprise.
My gaze dropped to the knife embedded squarely in his chest, which seemed to have sprouted there. But knives don't sprout, even in dungeons, I thought hazily, as the torturer fell heavily at my feet. I turned my head, half rising from the chair--
And saw the Marquis of Shevraeth standing framed in the doorway. At his back were four of his liveried equerries, with swords drawn and ready.
The Marquis strolled forward, indicated the knife with a neatly gloved hand, and gave me a faint smile. "I trust the timing was more or less advantageous?"
"More or less," I managed to say before the rushing in my ears washed over me, and I passed out cold right on top of the late torturer. — Sherwood Smith

And she had a special ability to separate her body and her heart. I will give you one of them, she told Tsukuru. My body or my heart. But you can't have both. You need to choose one or the other, right now. I'll give the other part to someone else, she said. But Tsukuru wanted all of her. He wasn't about to hand over one half to another man. He couldn't stand that. If that's how it is, he wanted to tell her, I don't need either one. But he couldn't say it. — Haruki Murakami

G took another gulp, and thought about the best way to break the equestrian news.My dear, you know those four-legged majestical beasts of the land? Well, you married one!
No. That could not be the right approach.My sweet, have you ever had a difficult time deciding between man or beast? Well, now you don't have to!
Again, he thought better of this tactic.Sweet lady, there are those of us who sleep lying down, and those of us who sleep standing up. I can do both.
No.You know how some men claim to have another, perhaps hairier side?Have you ever cursed the fact that your loved one has just the two legs?Did you know that horses have incredible balance?Hey! What's that over there? And then he would gallop away. — Cynthia Hand

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

Yesterday, here in the middle of the City, I saw a wolf turn into a Russian ex-gymnast and hand over a business card that read YOUR OWN PERSONAL TRANSHUMAN SECURITY WHORE! STERILIZED INNARDS! ACCEPTS ALL CREDIT CARDS to a large man who had trained attack cancers on his face and possessed seventy-five indentured Komodo Dragons instead of legs. And they had sex. Right in front of me. And six of the Komodo Dragons spat napalm on my new shoes. — Warren Ellis

It didn't help that Oscar showed up in my dreams constantly ... I kept telling him to get actual, that he'd died, and he'd say, No no, honey, you got it all wrong. Oh, man, look at my hand. And I'd look at his hand that he held out, and I'd grab it, reaching out in dreamtime, doubting him, and it was there all right, but the touch of it, the tight tough skin exactly like Oscar's, would startle me with terror and love, and I'd wake up by myself in my apartment in the dark like a flashlight you've just switched on, with the traffic moving on the street outside the window and the headlights lighting the ceiling, and this big broken hole in me that Oscar had left behind, by dying. — Charles Baxter

You call me castoff," Mahlia said, "Chinese throwaway, whatever." Amaya was trying to look away, but Mahlia had her pinned, kept her eye to eye. "My old man might have been peacekeeper, but my mom was pure Drowned Cities. You want to war like that, I'm all in." Mahlia lifted the scarred stump of her right hand, shoved it up in Amaya's face. "Maybe I cut you the way the Army of God cut me. See how you do with just a lucky left. How'd you like that? — Paolo Bacigalupi