Sweaty Hands Quotes & Sayings

The I.B.M. machine has no ethic of its own; what it does is enable one or two people to do the computing work that formerly required many more people. If people often use it stupidly, it's their stupidity, not the machine's, and a return to the abacus would not exorcise the failing. People can be treated as drudges just as effectively without modern machines. — William H. Whyte

My whole life, I prepared to come down in order to save the world above.. Now I have to ascend to save the world below.. — Jonathan Friesen

Blake filled her world. The sweaty male scent of him was in her nostrils, the slippery texture of his hot skin under her hands; the unbearably erotic taste of his mouth lay sweetly on her tongue. At some unknown point his kisses had slipped past celebration and become intensely male, demanding, giving, thrilling. Perhaps they'd never been celebration kisses at all, she thought fuzzily.
Suddenly he removed his mouth from hers and buried his face in the curve of her neck. When he spoke his voice was shaky, but husky with an undertone of laughter. "Have you noticed how much time we spend rolling around on the floor? — Linda Howard

The curiosity of the human mind is essential if you want citizens who think rather than accept the first nonsense they come to. — Francois Englert

Even though we'd never met, imagining being dumped by Gene made me want to die. What was the point of going out with someone? What was the point of falling in love? The whole thing was enough to make me wish I'd been born in one of those countries where they still have arranged marriages. I mean, okay, yes, it would certainly suck not being allowed to drive or vote and having to ask a man's permission to leave the house.
But at least you wouldn't have to worry about being dumped. — Melissa Kantor

She had this way of just disappearing. He saw in whenever he asked her to do something she didn't wan to answer or asked her to do something she didn't want to do, like meeting his mother or father. She'd close her mouth, that she'd stuff her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and she'd turn into a wall. Colin never understood what she was running from. But he ran after her. He'd never met a woman who knew more about film. After he was with her for a while, though, he didn't care about that so much. He loved her mind; she was always making connections that startle and pleased him. He loved to stand behind her in movie lines and breathe her in, the softly sweaty odor of her. HE loved to make her laugh. He always felt as though he'd won a prize when he succeeded. He loved he. But he didn't tell her for the longest time. He though she might run away for good after that. — Martha Southgate

I pushed a few sweaty strands of hair out of his face. Rowan reached up and squeezed my hand.
In a weakened tone, he said " Can't keep your hands off me, can you?"
Marcus laughed, "Some things never change."
I rolled my eyes, "You're incorrigible! "
Rowan smirked, "And, sexy. Don't forget, sexy. — Stacey O'Neale

I close my eyes, and this image floats beside me.
A sweaty toothed mad man with a stare that pounds my brain.
His hands reach out and choke me, and all the time he's mumbling.
"Truth, truth."
Like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
You push it, stretch it, but it'll never be enough.
You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us.
From the moment we enter crying,
to the moment we leave dying,
it'll just cover your face,
as you wail and cry and scream. — Tom Schulman

He simply contemplated human realities from a divine perspective. — Salvador Bernal

He reaches over a goat that's come between us and grabs my hand.
"Don't let go!" he orders. Harper's hand is dry and soothing, while mine is sweaty with fear. We've never held hands before. I think about what it means in the village when boys and girls only a few years older then Harper and me wander around with their hands clasped together. They're always peering dreamily into each other's eyes, sneaking sky kisses ... and soon after, there's a wedding. — Margaret Peterson Haddix

Our breaths mingled, our mouths found one another and his hands gripped mine tightly as we kissed. For two hours. He never once stopped holding my hands, even when they were sweaty, and I never once stopped smiling, even when he was kissing me. Awkward was good, because it was with him. He made awkward perfect.
That day was the beginning of forever.
Nobody told me the road was going to be bumpy. — Tammy Faith

Another big problem with any Australian emissions reduction scheme is that it would not make a material difference to atmospheric carbon concentrations unless the big international polluters had similar schemes. — Tony Abbott

There was just something so damn male about a man doing something with his hands. Something mechanical. Something sweaty. And dirty. Watching Coop in his natural environment was seriously turning her on. — Amy Andrews

Be happy when you reach the top: cry, clap your hands, shout to the four winds that you did it, let the wind - the wind is always blowing up there - purify your mind, refresh your tired and sweaty feet, open your eyes, clean the dust from your heart. It feels so good, what was just a dream before, a distant vision, is now part of your life, you did it! — Paulo Coelho

There is no work of genius which has not been the delight of mankind, no word of genius to which the human heart and soul have not sooner or later responded. — James Russell Lowell

The mother of a student in Europe who was between his junior and senior years of high school called Motto in a frantic state. She had just read somewhere that college admissions offices looked for kids who had spent their summers in enriching ways, ideally doing charity work, and her son was due to be on vacation with the rest of the family in August. "Should we ditch our plans," she asked Motto, "and have him build dirt roads?" Motto reminded her that she lived in a well-paved European capital. "Where would these dirt roads be?" he said. "India?" she suggested. "Africa?" She hadn't worked it out. But if Yale might be impressed by an image of her son with a small spade, large shovel, rake or jackhammer in his chafed hands, she was poised to find a third-world setting that would produce that sweaty and ennobling tableau. — Frank Bruni

The biggest piece of advice that I give young comedians is: If it's your goal to get where I'm at, go do something else. Because you'll never get here. Never. The odds are so bad. Because not only do you have to be a really, really strong comedian but you also have to be lucky. And most people don't get that combination. — Ron White

What about desserts?" I asked. "If the world comes to an end, I'm going to want cookies. — Susan Beth Pfeffer

She was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they'd bore you or something. Jane was different. We'd get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we'd start holding hands, and we wouldn't quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a big deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were. — J.D. Salinger

I'm all sweaty," she said again, even as her hands fisted in his hair.
"That's okay," he said silkily, his mouth brushing her temple. "We're going to get even more so. — Jill Shalvis

I think I'm losing myself," I whisper to her after we've come, our bodies naked, sweaty and sated, limbs draped over limbs, hands holding onto hands. My throat feels thick, my breath heavy, my words weigh a ton. "Every time I'm inside you, with you, I think I lose a little bit more." I turn my head to the side to look at her. She's staring at me with big, wet eyes so full of everything I could ever want from her. "In the end you might have all my pieces," I tell her. "Please be gentle with them. — Karina Halle

Ambo opens his eyes and snaps to awareness - looking around wildly. He tries to move his hands, but he can't; his wrists have been bound to a wooden armchair. It takes him a moment to recognize it, to remember how he got there.

Arla is standing next to him, looking withered. Skin mottled and sweaty. Her eyes are swollen, and the cloth of the hijab has unraveled slightly. She whispers something to him, and it sounds like she's asking whether he's okay, but he can't make out the words.

He tells her to repeat herself. Louder this time, child.

'I said, what are we going to do? — Jonathan R. Miller

But America is a great, unwieldy Body. Its Progress must be slow ... Like a Coach and six - the swiftest Horses must be slackened and the slowest quickened, that all may keep an even Pace. — John Quincy Adams

Derek's change came faster now and maybe a bit easier
no vomiting this time. Finally it was over, and he fell onto his side, panting, shaking, and shivering. Then he reached for my hand, holding it tight, and I entwined my fingers with his, shifting closer and using my free hand to brush sweaty hair from his face.
"Whoa," a voice said, making both of us jump. Simon stood in the entrance to our corner, a pile of fabric in his hands. "You really need to get dressed before you start that."
"I'm not starting anything," Derek said.
"Still ... " He held out the stack in his hands. "Dr. Fellows dug up some hospital greens for you. Get dressed and then ... whatever — Kelley Armstrong

According to Shakespeare, the Roman populace had made no advance in cleanliness in the centuries between Coriolanus and Caesar. Casca gives a vivid picture of the offer of the crown to Julius, and his rejection of it: And still as he refused it the rabblement shouted, and clapped their chapped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Caesar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Caesar, for he swooned and fell down at it. — William Shakespeare

Would you like to come in?" I said. My hands were sweaty. Inside my chest an ocean heaved and crashed and heaved again.
"I would," he said. I saw his Adam's apple jerk as he swallowed. "Thank you."
I was distracted by that thank you. We had moved past the language of formality long ago. It was strange to relearn it with each other. — Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

I still get butterflies on the first tee. I still get sweaty hands, and my heart pumps a lot going down the 18th. But I know what winning is all about now, and that's a feeling that I like. — Annika Sorenstam

There is a time, when passing through a light, that you walk in your own shadow. — Keri Hulme

If you go to India the roads are being built almost entirely with private sector money and by the private sector. If you look at many, many countries in Europe that's how they're doing it. — Fareed Zakaria

Man's idea of God, and a God's collusion, is an essential part of the equation to wage war. — Ralph Steadman

Again, this week as I walked on Broadway, in front of giant photographs of voluptuous supermodels at a Victoria Secret mega-store, who was rebuilding the sidewalks? With sweaty headbands, ripped-up jeans, and dust on their brown faces? Their muscled hands quivered as they worked the jack-hammers and lugged the concrete chunks into dump trucks. Two men from Guanajuato. Undocumented workers. They both shook my hand vigorously, as if they were relieved I wasn't an INS officer.
I imagined how much money Victoria Secret was making off these poor bastards. I wondered why passersby didn't see what was in front of their faces. We use these workers. We profit from them. In the shadows, they work to the bone, for pennies. And it's so easy to blame them for everything and nothing simply because they are powerless, and dark-skinned,and speak with funny accents. Illegal is illegal. It is a phrase, shallow and cruel, that should prompt any decent American to burn with anger. — Sergio Troncoso

The first night was awful because I was so afraid, and I was never more afraid because it was going out of my character to be outgoing and to be vulnerable and to be out there and onstage. My hands were sweaty and I couldn't swallow, and I drank a bottle of wine to calm my nerves. — George Lopez

He made his voice low and smug as he thumbed her hardened nipple. Smearing soot in a lewd circle. "Don't play innocent, Miss Highwood. You've been wanting this. A hard, sweaty pounding from the village smith. These strong, dirty hands all over your body. You've been wanting it, haven't you?"

"I . . ."

He withdrew halfway, then slid deep. "Haven't you?"

As he moved in and out, her head bobbed in a subtle nod.

"Say it." He thrust hard.

She gasped. "Yes. — Tessa Dare

Maybe falling in love isn't about someone wrapping his arm around you and shooting the bad guys while shielding you and then promising he'll always be around to do that. Maybe it's just about finding the right person for a certain time in your life. Maybe I do love him because he was kind to me, because he gave me a place to belong. Because he kidnapped me. And maybe one day, he'll let me go. Or I'll let him go.
It doesn't mean we didn't love each other. It doesn't mean he didn't give me a betterness that will last my whole life. It just means things shift quietly.
I decide it's okay for me to be in love with him right now. I don't have to tell him about it. I just have to show him. — J.A. Rock

I'm gonna barf," I whispered to Fang,wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.
You'll be fine," he whipered back. "You always are.
I'm gonna die," I moaned.
You can't die," he said a hint of a smile in his voice."You're the indesructible Max. — James Patterson

Got you all hot and bothered, did I?"

He sneered. "Exactly as you intended."

"Well, in a few hours, we can fuck until we're both limp and exhausted," she promised, giving him an exaggerated leer.

Kent wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her barely clothed body back against him. "I'm not waiting for a few hours," he countered huskily, his mouth against the side of her throat and the vibrations making her shiver.

She shook her head, although she'd felt tingling pleasure between her legs at his words. "You'll have to. I'm all fixed up and pretty now and you're not going to get me sweaty and mess up my makeup before everyone arrives."

His other arm went around her too and his hands moved up to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. Then his pelvis pushed into the top of her ass and she felt the hard evidence of his arousal. "I won't mess up your makeup. — Zannie Adams

And therefore a giant hammer of pure stupidity lashed out of the screen and felled me again. I lay mewling, clutching my head with my sweaty hands, whimpering for my Mommy to make it stop. MAKE IT STOP!
But it did not stop. It. Did. Not. Stop.
The Desolation of Tolkien — John C. Wright

Don't react," Lucien said, forcing his gaze ahead, too, the metal eye going still and silent. "No matter what you feel or see, don't react. Don't look. Just stare ahead." I started trembling, gripping the reins in my sweaty hands. I might have wondered if this was some kind of horrible joke, but Lucien's face had gone so very, very pale. Our horses' ears flattened against their heads, but they continued walking, as if they'd also understood Lucien's command. And then I felt it. — Sarah J. Maas

Absorbing the rest of her shadow into his, he knuckled the wall on either side of her head, trapping her in the cage of his arms, but not touching. The cool, sweaty bricks ground into his skin. She shivered and flattened her hands as if clinging to the wall for protection. Fire flared low in his gut, spurring him on. — Kendall Grey