Take My Hand And Walk With Me Quotes & Sayings

Sadness pulses out of us as we walk. I almost expect the trees to lower their branches when we pass, the stars to hand down some light. I breathe in the horsy scent of eucalyptus, the thick sugary pine, aware of each breath I take, how each one keeps me in the world a few seconds longer. I taste the sweetness of the summer air on my tongue and want to just gulp and gulp and gulp it into my body
this living, breathing, heart-beating body of mine. — Jandy Nelson

Like: 'Don't walk out there with one hand in your pocket unless there's somethin' in there you're going to bring out.' You gotta commit. You've gotta go out there and improvise and you've gotta be completely unafraid to die. You've got to be able to take a chance to die. And you have to die lots. You have to die all the time. — Bill Murray

He bent, lips coming to mine and
'Derek? Chloe?' It was Kit, opening the back door. Derek let out a low growl.
'Never fails.' I turned to Kit. 'How is she?'
'We're going to take her back to the house now. She's unconscious again.'
'Then we'll walk back,' Derek said. 'Give you room in the van to lay her down.'
His dad agreed and went back inside. As we walked toward the steps, I looked down at Derek's hand, holding mine.
'No one's around,' he said. 'And we can take the back way.'
'Good,' I said, and entwined my fingers with his. — Kelley Armstrong

What if all your hard work never pays off?
What if I am the outsider to my friends and family? What then?
What if all the good you've done has been transformed into evil and greed?
What if those you help the most, stabbed you in the back? What then?
Should I trust again?
What if life is unfair, painful and cruel?
What if Death invites you to join its tribe?
What if death makes you feel at peace and alive! What then?
Should I take death's hand and walk away?
What then? — Quetzal

Do you know that i paid two dollars for [Doxocology] thirty-three years ago? Everything was wrong with him, hoofs like flapjacks, a hock so thick and short and straight there seems no joint at all. he's hammerheaded and swaybacked. He has a pinched chest and a big behind. He has an iron mouth and he still fights the upper. with a saddle he feels as thought you were riding a sled over a gravel pit. He can't trot and he stumbles over his feet when he walks. I have never in thirty-three years fond one good thing about him. He even has an ugly disposition. He is selfish and quarrelsome and mean and disobedient. to this day I don't dare walk behind him because he will surely take a kick at me. when I feed him mush he tries to bite my hand. And I love him. — John Steinbeck

Unlike his brothers, he sucked at flirting. Was it any wonder he preferred to spend his time in front of a computer screen? "I wondered if you'd run," she said, breaking the silence. "I thought about it." "Why didn't you?" He shrugged. "I don't understand what you want me for, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take the cowardly route and bolt before I find out." "You know enough by now that if you want me to walk away, I will. No one, not even the shifter council, can force you to lend a helping hand." "Walk away?" He snorted. "Have you met my family? I'd never live it down. Beside, I'm curious." "And yet you're not a cat. — Eve Langlais

I walk at night under a moonless sky. Only the terrain guides my steps, yet my footfall is as sure as if a dozen suns lit the way. I go to meet you under a leafless tree that never seems to grow or alter its shape. I am uncertain if it still lives or has learned to disguise its death. The same thought crosses my mind when I feel your cold fingers take my hand. It is not the tree I reflect upon.

'Do you still love me?' The words tumble clumsily out of the dark.

Hesitation is its own answer, but I reply 'I'm here' anyway as if my words were whispered comfort and not a weathered blade. They are taken wrong.

'I love you too.'

Your arms wrap me up and clamp tightly around my waist. An old, familiar kiss hardens my lips. I wonder why it is I return to this place every year where only memories remain fond. Perhaps it is because I keep hoping this leafless tree will either change or die. — Richelle E. Goodrich

She was talking too loud now, shouting almost, and a long silence followed. Why was she being like this? He was only trying to help. In what way did he benefit from this friendship? He should get up and walk away, that's what he should do. They turned to look at each other at the same time.
"Sorry," he said.
"No, I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?"
"Rattling on like a ... .mad cow. I'm sorry, I'm tired, bad day, and I'm sorry for being ... so boring."
"You're not that boring."
"I am, Dex. God, I swear, I bore myself."
"Well you don't bore me." He took her hand in his. "You couldd never bore me. You're one in a million, Em."
"I'm not even one in three."
He kicked her foot with his. "Em?"
"What?"
"Just take it, will you? Just shut up and take it. — David Nicholls

My daughter's all grown up now compared to what she was, but I used to say, I've got to have my horse to where if she's leading my horse somewhere, and she's got a big armload of Barbies and drops something out of her hand, that son of a buck ought to stop and respect her while she's gathering up all her dolls and not to walk on her or take advantage of her. And if I've done my work right, by gosh, that's what they'll do. — Buck Brannaman

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

Wait a second," Four says. I turn toward him, wondering which version of Four I'll see now-the one who scolds me, or the one who climbs Ferris wheels with me. He smiles a little, but the smile doesn't spread to his eyes, which look less tense and worried.
"You belong here, you know that?" he says. "You belong with us. It'll be over soon, so just hold on, okay?"
He scratches behind his ear and looks away, like he's embarrassed by what he said.
I stare at him. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, even in my toes. I feel like doing something bold, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is smarter, or better. I am not sure that I care.
I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.
I stare up at him, and he stares down at me. For a long moment, we stay that way. Then I pull my hand away and run after Uriah and Lynn and Marlene. Maybe now he thinks I'm stupid, or strange. Maybe it was worth it. — Veronica Roth

You take Boris's hand as he bounds along on his long legs, your signal that he has to either slow down or pull you along. He tucks both your hand and his hand into the pocket of his jacket. You look up at his face out of the corner of your eye. In the cold, you watch him breathe perfect plumes of white that match the sheepskin lining of his jacket. You think how happy you would be if Boris thought you were half as beautiful as you think he is at this moment. You walk this way for a few minutes. — Katherine Heiny

And she said, in a voice strangely unlike her own, 'I see the vision of a poor weak soul striving after good. It was not cut short; and, in the end, it learnt, through tears and much pain, that holiness is an infinite compassion for others; that greatness is to take the common things of life and walk truly among them; that' - she moved her white hand and laid it on her forehead - 'happiness is a great love and much serving. It was not cut short; and it loved what it had learnt - it loved — Olive Schreiner

You start on Monday with the idea implanted in your bosom that you are going to enjoy yourself. You wave an airy adieu to the boys on shore, light your biggest pipe, and swagger about the deck as if you were Captain Cook, Sir Francis Drake, and Christopher Columbus all rolled into one. On Tuesday, you wish you hadn't come. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, you wish you were dead. On Saturday, you are able to swallow a little beef tea, and to sit up on deck, and answer with a wan, sweet smile when kind-hearted people ask you how you feel now. On Sunday, you begin to walk about again, and take solid food. And on Monday morning, as, with your bag and umbrella in your hand, you stand by the gunwale, waiting to step ashore, you begin to thoroughly like it. — Jerome K. Jerome

She opens her palm and she's going to take my hand. She's supposed to take my hand. We're meant to walk through this world together. I see it in her eyes. We are meant to be. I'm certain of this in a way I'm not certain about anything else.

But she doesn't take my hand. She walks on. — Nicola Yoon

If you have no eyes, do not walk blindly; take a staff in your hand. If you have no staff of insight, do not walk without a guide. — Rumi

It's strange," I say to Day later, as we both curl up on the floor. Outside, the hurricane rages on. In a few hours we'll need to head out. "It's strange being here with you. I hardly know you. But ... sometimes it feels like we're the same person born into two different worlds."
He stays quiet for a moment, one hand absently playing with my hair. "I wonder what we would've been like if I'd been born into a life more like yours,and you had been born into mine. Would we be just like we are now? Would I be one of the Republic's top soldiers? And would you be a famous criminal?"
I lift my head off his shoulder and look at him. "I never did ask you about your street name.Why 'Day'?"
"Each day means a new twenty-four hours. Each day means everything's possible again.You live in the moment, you die in the moment,you take it all one day at a time." He looks toward the railway car's open door, where streaks of dark water blanket the world. "You try to walk in the light. — Marie Lu

The end of suffering happens in this very moment,
whether you're watching a terrorist attack or doing the dishes.
And compassion begins at home.
Because I don't believe my thoughts, sadness can't exist.
That's how I can go to the depths of anyone's suffering,
if they invite me, and take them by the hand and walk them out of it into the sunlight of reality.
I've taken that walk myself. — Byron Katie

Then the prophetess said to the witcher: "I shall give you this advice: wear boots made of iron, take
in hand a staff of steel. Then walk until the end of the world. Help yourself with your staff to break the land before you and wet it with your tears. Go through fire and water, do not stop along the way,
do not look behind you. And when the boots are worn, when your staff is blunt, once the wind and the heat has dried your eyes so that your tears no longer flow, then at the end of the world you may
find what you are looking for and what you love...

The witcher went through fire and water, he did not look back. He did not take iron boots or a staff
of steel. He took only his sword. He did not listen to the words of prophets. And he did well because she was a bad prophet. — Andrzej Sapkowski

She's hurt and still imagines I'd worry about him for even a second ? I touch her shoulder. Her touch her shoulder. Her dark hair brushes the back of my hand. Her dark eyes shine. Their brightness goes all the way down.
"You found me," she says.
I kneel beside her. I take her hand. "I found you".
"My back is broken,"she says. "I can't walk."
I slide my arms beneath her. "I'll carry you". — Rick Yancey

Silas nods toward the green crosswalk sign and lightly places his hand on the small of my back to urge me forward. The touch sends shivers up my spine and the woozy feeling takes over. Walk, Rosie, walk. Don't be stupid.
Silas points several blocks away as we arrive on the opposite curb. "I can give you a ride home, if you don't mind waiting for a few hours. I've got to go see the power company getting my lights turned back on."
"I, um ... " Sit with Silas for a few hours in the power company office? And then for another half hour on the ride home? I want to. I really, really want to. But what will we talk about? How long will it take me to start giggling like a moron? I can lure a Fenris - sway my hips, giggle lustily, bat my eyelashes - but I have no idea how not to look like a bumbling idiot in front of Silas Reynolds. — Jackson Pearce

I have begotten them and I have reared them but I have no comments to make and no advice to give. I do not know if I have done them good or ill. I do not know whether, in their own generation, they will do well or badly; I cannot even guess whether they will build because of me or in spite of me. I know only that they will build elsewhere, and that I have here no continuing city. I can barely live with my children, yet I must shortly and inconceivably live without them. I have hardly known them, hardly begun to walk in the streets of their minds and the gardens of their pleasures, hardly explored with them the city that they are, and already they begin to go their ways and to take my city with them. My exile comes implacably. By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered thee O Sion. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. I am absurd, I know; but it is the infirmity in which I glory. — Robert Farrar Capon

The Happy Trinity is her home: nothing can trouble her joy.
She is the bird that evades every net: the wild deer that leaps every pitfall.
Like the mother bird to its chickens or a shield to the armed knight: so is the Lord to her mind, in His unchanging lucidity.
Bogies will not scare her in the dark: bullets will not frighten her in the day.
Falsehoods tricked out as truths assail her in vain: she sees through the lie as if it were glass.
The invisible germ will not harm her: nor yet the glittering sunstroke.
A thousand fail to solve the problem, ten thousand choose the wrong turning: but she passes safely through.
He details immortal gods to attend her: upon every road where she must travel.
They take her hand at hard places: she will not stub her toes in the dark.
She may walk among lions and rattlesnakes: among dinosaurs and nurseries of lionettes.
He fills her brim full with immensity of life: he leads her to see the world's desire. — C.S. Lewis

The corridor was silent. It was necessary to walk very slowly, her hand on the wall. A man was curled on his side near the elevators, shivering. She wanted to speak to him, but speaking would take too much strength, so she looked at him instead - I see you, I see you - and hoped this was enough. — Emily St. John Mandel

I saw Four, Brandon's Garde, poking his head out from behind Brandon's back. He shyly put his hand out for Nine to take, inviting him to walk to pre-combat together. Seeing this, I hoped Nine would take Four's hand. It was a sweet gesture. — Pittacus Lore

I had grown up in a house with a fence around it, and in this fence was a white smooth wooden gate, two holes bored round and low together so the dog could see through. One night, the moon high, late for me home from the school dance, I remember that I stopped, hand on the gate, and spoke so quietly to myself and to the woman that I would love that not even the dog could have heard.
I don't know where you are, but you're living right now, somewhere on this earth. And one day you and I are going to touch this gate where I'm touching it now. Your hand will touch this very wood, here! Then we'll walk through and we'll be full of a future and of a past and we'll be to each other like no one else has ever been. We can't meet now, I don't know why. But some day our questions will be answers and we'll be caught in something so bright ... and every step I take is one step closer on a bridge we must cross to meet. — Richard Bach

The magic in writing is not so much using your imagination as it is allowing the reader to uses theirs. When I write a novel I'm not going to hand walk you through each scene. Avid readers tend to have very high IQ's so I'm constantly aware of, and respect that. I have a tendency to give my readers vivid descriptions of panoramic viewpoints, soft breezes, and the late evening as it scrapes against the emerging night and present this step by suspenseful step. Once I get them to the threshold of that unseen cliff, I shove them off and say, take it from there. — Carl Henegan

You didn't have to take a punch for me, you know,' he said. 'I'm a lover, not a fighter.'
'You're a freak is what you are,' I said.
He stuck out his hand. 'Come on, slugger. Walk with me. You know you want to.'
And the thing was, despite everything I knew-that it was a mistake, that he was different from the others-I did. How he knew that, I had no idea. But I got up and did it anyway. — Sarah Dessen

I've lived as a savage for years. I've lived an existence more animal than human. That's the way I want to take you." His eyes clamped closed as I stroked him. "I want to throw you onto all fours, shove between your legs, and fuck you until you can't walk. I want to come inside you until I can't come anymore and every last seed in my body is swimming in yours. I want to mate with you. I want to breed you. I want to mount you and make you scream my name while I take your body again, and again" - something dark flashed in his eyes when they opened, his cock throbbing in my hand - "and again. — Kat Austen

I'm not afraid to take a stand. Everybody come take my hand. We'll walk this road together, through the storm. Whatever weather, cold or warm. Just let you know that, you're not alone. Holla if you feel that you've been down the same road. — Eminem

Let me give my love to you.
Let me take your hand.
And as we walk in the dimming light
Oh darling understand
That everything ends ... — Death Cab For Cutie

He hesitated for a moment. Then he said softly, 'I love you, Mother.' He took my hand and kissed it, and folded my fingers round the stem of the rose. He had stripped it of its thorns.
I was too moved to speak. But maternal affection was not the only emotion that prevented utterance; as I watched him walk away, his head high and his step firm, anger boiled within me. I knew I had to conquer it before I saw Nefret again, or I would take her by the shoulders and shake her, and demand that she love my son! — Elizabeth Peters

She had a choice. For one brilliant moment, it beamed at her with an unusual clarity, fixing itself in her mind. She could push her fingers into the waistband of his shorts and discover the precise scope of Levi's desire, or she could withdraw her hand and let whatever was between them continue to build. Either way, the end would be the same. Levi would walk away with some piece of her. The only question was, how big of a chunk would he take? Which path would bring the most heartache? It was coming, like a train steaming down the tracks, a frightening rush of noise and smoke and unstoppable momentum. Her only choices lay in the when and the how. — Lucy Varna

Your female, huh?" The Shifter bravely looked up. "Is your cock so small that you can't get your own women to--

Logan slapped a hand across his mouth and leaned in, nose to nose--giving the man a good look at the darkness pulsing in his eyes. "There are no laws against what we do, only opinions. Your opinion doesn't matter to me, but disrespecting this female does. Tip your head to her once more and I'll place my jacket on the back of that chair and we'll take a walk where Breed rules don't apply. Care to discuss your opinions on this matter any further?" Logan's nose wrinkle, drawing in a scent. The man backed down in defeat. Obviously not an alpha Shifter, just a jackass.

Logan's eyes slanted, as if watching me in his peripheral. "For the record, my cock can only be measured in decibels from the screams of the females it pleasures. — Dannika Dark

Learn how to leave yourself behind, read between the lines, and let your spirit soar ... take our Heavenly Father's guiding hand. — Phil Mitchell

If I love you more than you love me, I'm as good as dead. Yet I can't make myself take it back. I can't just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I'm dying inside. — Rachel Vincent

Get up, get out, get away from these liars
'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time — Snow Patrol

Turn off the device and take your child for a walk through the woods or on a hike up a mountain. Go on a camping trip. Late at night, when it's absolutely dark, take your child's hand and ask her to look up at the stars. Talk with her about the vastness of space and the tininess of our planet in the universe. That's reality. That's perspective. — Leonard Sax