Raising Your Hand Quotes & Sayings

Looking impressed. She turned and beckoned to a young man of seventeen or eighteen, who had been lurking in the background. He bore such a marked resemblance to his small, wiry, dark-haired father that his identity could scarcely be in doubt. "Manfred," his mother announced proudly. "Mein laddie." Jamie inclined his head in grave acknowledgment. "Mr. McGillivray." "Ah ... your s-servant, sir?" The boy sounded rather dubious about it, but put out his hand to be shaken. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir," Jamie assured him, shaking it. The courtesies duly observed, he looked briefly round at the quiet surroundings, raising one eyebrow. "I had heard that you were suffering some inconvenience wi' regard to a thief-taker. Do I — Diana Gabaldon

I simmer in the half-light of a stoop, raising beers under a pompadour on the first brisk night, pressure more potent than any barometer can read. To see your hand to the tramp of feet is a way to measure strangers. To feel your hair on my finger accidentally is common sense, a way of leading you to me as the watch moves. We return to our bed through the bakery smells of daybreak, sky palling, empty of jets. The schedule is suspended, then resumes like gray dead hands in the east, and I want you never to die. — John Godfrey

Did you feel that?" he asked, concern crossing his face. "Yeah, I felt it. You too?" I answered, flirting back. "No, I mean, yes, obviously I felt that, but didn't you feel that hit your head?" he asked, beginning to grin broadly. "What are you talking about?" I asked, raising my hand up to my hair. "Oh, Jesus, Grace, a seagull just shit on your head," he stated, beginning to shake. "What? — Alice Clayton

And there, row upon row, with the soft gleam of flowers opened at morning, with the light of this June sun glowing through a faint skin of dust, would stand the dandelion wine. Peer through it at the wintry day - the snow melted to grass, the trees were reinhabitated with bird, leaf, and blossoms like a continent of butterflies breathing on the wind. And peering through, color sky from iron to blue.
Hold summer in your hand, pour summer in a glass, a tiny glass of course, the smallest tingling sip for children; change the season in your veins by raising glass to lip and tilting summer in — Ray Bradbury

Do you really want to be converted? Are you willing to be transformed? Or do you keep clutching your old ways of life with one hand while with the other you beg people to for help you change?
Conversion is certainly not something you can bring about yourself. It is not a question of willpower. You have to trust the inner voice that shows the way. You know that inner voice. You turn to it often. But after you have heard with clarity what you are asked to do, you start raising questions, fabricating objections,, and seeking everyone else's opinion. Thus you become entangles in countless often contradictory thoughts, feelings, and ideas and lose touch with the God in you. And you end up dependent on all the people you have gathered around you.
Excerpt from:The Inner Voice of Love From Anguish to Freedom by Henry Nouwen — Henri J.M. Nouwen

Dan suddenly tugged at my hand. "C'mon, Bekah. Daddy and Uncle Lloyd are takin' us fishing. Right, Daddy?" "Uncle Lloyd?" I looked at Frank. He shrugged. "Your father suggested it." "You comin' with us, Bekah?" Dan pressed his hands together, as if in prayer. "Please?" "Please, Rebekah?" Frank seemed as anxious as his son for my answer. Elation coursed through me, almost raising my feet from the ground. I opened my mouth to say yes. "Rebekah?" Mama's voice pulled my attention toward the house. "Rebekah Grace, where have you gotten to?" When my gaze returned to Frank, his sunny expression had darkened to a thundercloud. My hands turned to ice, in spite of unhindered sun. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I ran toward the house, toward Mama, all the while hating myself for wishing she'd never come. — Anne Mateer

Stop! Do not bare your soul on social networking brothers and sisters. If you reveal your cards in every hand, your enemy will always know your next move before you do. — Terry A. O'Neal

You look pensive," he said quietly, holding his hand out from where he lay on the bed. He wore only his shirt and breeches. She went to him without protest. Why pretend when they really had so little time left together? He gathered her against him, her back to his front, and began plucking the pins from her coiffure. "Have I told you how much I admire your hair?" "It's just plain brown," she murmured. "Plain, lovely brown," he replied, raising a lock he'd freed to his face. "Are you smelling my hair?" she asked in amusement. "Yes." "Silly man," she said lightly. "Smitten man," he corrected, spreading her hair over her shoulders. "I've been watching you today." "In between escorting Miss Royle about the garden?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Yes. I'd rather it'd been you, but that wouldn't've been prudent." He frowned down at the strands of her hair caught between his fingers. "Or, perhaps, safe. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Raising one hand, he tilts his hat to that sexy slant. "You want me. Admit it."
Even if he's partly right, I'll never tell him. "Why would I want you?"
He lifts three fingers to countdown. "Mysterious. Rebellious. Troubled. All those qualities women find irresistible."
"Such an optimist."
"My cup is never empty."
"Too bad your brain is." The words bite, but my smile softens with affection. — A.G. Howard

He said how love was the sweetest expression of life. The one thing that made life worth living. Love made difficult tasks easy. Raising a family could be a great burden, but if there was love, the sacrifice was a pleasure. And when love matured into devotion then everything you did for your lover was a joy. You would give up your life to save those you loved. On the other hand, if love did not mature it could lead to bondage, to jealousy. If you loved someone, but felt possessive of them, you could end up treating them like an object that belonged to you. Just as bad, with your children, if you showered them with too much love, and never disciplined them, they would grow up weak and spoiled. At times, love had to be tough, or it could end up wrecking those dearest to you. — Christopher Pike

Brenna's eyes widened. Raising a hand, she brushed his hair gently off his forehead.
"Why do I keep telling you things I swore I'd take to my grave?"
The contact shot electricity through his nerves. "Because you know I'll always be your shield against the nightmares. — Nalini Singh

Soul," said Jack, turning toward it again, "you've been listening. Do you have any suggestions?" "I have only one desire." "What is that?" "To be united with you. To go through life with you, comforting and cautioning, and - " "Wait a moment," said Jack, raising his hand. "What does it require for you to be united with me?" "Your consent." Jack smiled. He lit a cigarette, his hands trembling slightly. "What if I were to withhold my consent?" he asked. "Then I would become a wanderer. I would follow you at a distance, unable to comfort you and caution you, unable - " "Great," said Jack. "I withhold my consent. Get out of here." "Are you joking? That's a hell of a way to treat a soul. Here I am, waiting to comfort and caution you, and you kick me out. What will people say? 'There goes Jack's soul,' they'll say, 'poor thing. — Roger Zelazny

The intruder took a step forward, and Moody's voice asked, "Severus Snape?" Then the dust figure rose from the end of the hall and rushed him, raising its dead hand.
"It was not I who killed you, Albus," said a quiet voice.
The jinx broke: The dust-figure exploded again, and it was impossible to make out the newcomer through the dense gray cloud it left behind.
Harry pointed his wand into the middle of it.
"Don't move!"
He had forgotten the portrait of Mrs. Black: At the sound of his yell, the curtains hiding her flew open and she began to scream, "Mudbloods and filth dishonoring my house--"
Ron and Hermione came crashing down the stairs behind Harry, wants pointing, like his, at the unknown man now standing with his arms raised in the hall below.
"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!"
"Oh, thank goodness," said Hermione weakly, pointing her wand at Mrs. Black instead; with a bang, the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. — J.K. Rowling

You have to really respect what your kids are doing with their kids and how they're raising them. You can't push your way into areas where you shouldn't be saying anything. You have to always remember they're not your own kids. Play with them, love them, spoil them to death - then hand them back. — Billy Crystal

My eyes slit. "Des," I warn. He removes my hand from his chest. "Is that supposed to be a threatening tone?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He clucks his tongue and brings my hand up to his mouth. "Because if it is," he continues, "then you've got to work on your intimidation game," he continues. "I mean, you gave it a decent try, but I'm more turned on than anything else." Des — Laura Thalassa

Against his raising? I'll tell you!" She put her hand to her mouth. When she drew it away, it trailed a long silver thread of saliva. "Your father's no better than the niggers and trash he works for! — Harper Lee

It's sad but true that if you focus your attention on housework and meal preparation and diapers, raising children does start to look like drudgery pretty quickly. On the other hand, if you see yourself as nothing less than your child's nurturer, role model, teacher, spiritual guide, and mentor, your days take on a very different cast. — Joyce Maynard

He chuckled. "I cannot speak for other men, but I want the woman who stumbles over a word like virgin and can say whore without raising a blush." His smile faded and he spoke soberly. "Your soldier ... your first love ... and every circumstance that followed in some way brought you to me, and while I can wish that you had never had your heart hurt, that you had never suffered even a moment of doubt, of pain, of sadness ... of betrayal, I also know that you would in some way be changed. It would have made your life different. Mine also." North gave her hand a light squeeze. "Whether we are shaped by the circumstances of our lives, or by our perceptions of them, I still find I very much admire the shape you have become. — Jo Goodman

I tilt my head and ask "What firsts have we
already passed?"
"The easy ones," he says. "First hug, first date, first fight, first time we slept together,
although I wasn't the one sleeping. Now we barely have any left. First kiss. First time to
sleep together when we're both actually awake. First marriage. First kid. We're done
after that. Our lives will become mundane and boring and I'll have to divorce you and
marry a wife who's twenty years younger than me so I can have a lot more firsts and
you'll be stuck raising the kids." He bring his hand to my cheek and smile at me. "So you
see, babe? I'm only doing this for your benefit. The longer I wait to kiss you, the longer
it'll be before I'm forced to leave you high and dry. — Colleen Hoover

I tilt my head sideways so I can look him straight on. "What firsts have we already passed?" "The easy ones. First hug, first date, first fight, first time we slept together, although I wasn't the one sleeping . Now we barely have any left. First kiss. First time to sleep together when we're both actually awake. First marriage. First kid. We're done after that. Our lives will become mundane and boring and I'll have to divorce you and marry a wife who's twenty years younger than me so I can have a lot more firsts and you'll be stuck raising the kids." He cups my cheek in his hand and smiles at me. "So you see, babe? I'm only doing this for your benefit. The longer I wait to kiss you, the longer it'll be before I'm forced to leave you high and dry."
Hoover, Colleen (2012-12-18). Hopeless (pp. 165-166). Colleen Hoover. Kindle Edition. — Colleen Hoover

You're become a good friend, Arthur. I appreciate all you've done to help me since Warren's death. If we were to put the deeds of giving on a scale, your side would plunge downward compared to the paltry things I've done for you in return.'
She had no idea what she'd done for him, awakening him to love again, inspiring him to look beyond his own needs to someone else's. He started to tell her so, but she went on.
'But I can't look at years and weeks. I have to look at souls and sales. What would God have me view as the most valued?' She imitated the gesture he'd made earlier, raising one hand as high as her chin and lowering the other to midthigh. 'Souls, Arthur.' She balled the hand beside her leg into a tight fist, lifted it, and pressed it to her heart. 'Souls matter most. Even if it means I lose my mercantile - my home - I choose to love those children. — Kim Vogel Sawyer

You might have grown up barefoot and motherless, but you overcame," he whispered. "The person God made you to be stood up under adversity. Maybe he knew you needed to have that stress to realize your full potential. You wouldn't be the same person if you'd grown up in a different environment." His other hand went to her belly. "Makes the responsibility for raising our child so important. He's put our baby with us for a specific reason. We have to do our part, then trust him with the rest." Though — Colleen Coble

You're back and forth with me, with your actions, with your emotions. You act like you don't remember me, then spring on me that you do. You flirt with me and then you stop on a dime. You kiss me and then you pull away as soon as I touch you. You're mad then you're not." I don't stop to take a breath or let him speak before finally raising the hand he's holding and letting it go. "You're holding my hand, then . . ." I trail off, not sure of how to finish that thought. Tearing my gaze from his, I try to rein in my emotions, to wipe the flustered girl up off the floor. — Kim Karr

I will have papers. And whether it is one George or the other who rules in time - this land will be ours. And yours," he added softly, raising his eyes to Brianna's. "And your children's after you."
I laid my hand on his, where it rested on the box. His skin was warm with work and the heat of the day, and he smelt of clean sweat. The hairs on his forearm shone red and gold in the sun, and I understood very well just then, why it is that men measure time. They wish to fix a moment, in the vain hope that so doing will keep it from departing — Diana Gabaldon

What is more powerful than the love of a mother? Perhaps only God's hand in answering her earnest pleadings on your behalf. — Richelle E. Goodrich

You're such a girl," she chided, but somehow the words came out too soft ... too tender, and ended up sounding like a compliment.
Jay just laughed. "So what does that make you, the guy?" He squeezed her hand even tighter, keeping it buried in his.
"Or some sort of lesbian," she teased, raising one eyebrow. "Maybe we should try out a little girl-on-girl action."
"Nice, Violet. Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?" His eyes glinted as he watched her.
She leaned closer to him in the darkness of the car's interior. "No, but I'll kiss you with it. — Kimberly Derting

He wanted you to be the small, quiet girl from Abnegation," Four says softly. "He hurt you because your strength made him feel weak. No other reason."
I nod and try to believe him.
"The others won't be as jealous if you show some vulnerability. Even if it isn't real."
"You think I have to pretend to be vulnerable?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes,I do." He takes the ice pack from me, his fingers brushing mine, and holds it against my head himself. I put my hand down, too eager to relax my arm to object. Four stands up. I stare at the hem of his T-shirt.
Sometimes I see him as just another person, and sometimes I feel the sight of him in my gut, like a deep ache.
"You're going to want to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers they had no effect on you," he adds, "but you should let that bruise on your cheek show, and keep your head down."
The idea nauseates me. — Veronica Roth

In the military, I learned that 'leadership' means raising your hand and volunteering for the tough, important assignments. — Tulsi Gabbard

Questions are for the benefit of every student, not just the one raising his hand. If you don't have the starch to stand up in class and admit what you don't understand, then I don't have the time to explain it to you. If you don't have a policy against nonsense you can wind up with a dozen timid little rabbits lined up in the hall outside your office, all waiting to whisper the same imbecilic question in your ear. — Ann Patchett

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

Raising her hand and shaking the handcuffs, the shaking Pucks arm as well.
"Unfortunately, it is necessary," Puck explained. "You don't want to work with by security staff so from now on I'm going to be your personal bodyguard. Going to be with you every second of the day. — Michael Buckley