The Touch Of Someone Quotes & Sayings

Will walked silently to touch the iron rungs hidden under the rustling ivy. "Dad. You won't pull these off ... ?" Dad probed one with his fingers. "Some day, when you're tired of them, you'll take them off yourself." "I'll never be tired of them." "Is that how it seems? Yes, to someone your age, you figure you'll never get tired of anything. All right, son, up you go. — Ray Bradbury

Strawberries were too delicate to be picked by machine. The perfectly ripe ones bruised at even too heavy a human touch. It hit her then that every strawberry she had ever eaten - every piece of fruit - had been picked by calloused human hands. Every piece of toast with jelly represented someone's knees, someone's aching back and hips, someone with a bandanna on her wrist to wipe away the sweat. Why had no one told her about this before? — Alison Luterman

That an organism will see the light, hear the night, or touch the wind is subject to probability. And that its perfection is in its functioning is a myth. I take it not as a right to be when probability precedes the being. Its limitations is in its functioning, then its limited right to be is in ensuring proper functioning of its systems. I often debate just how much time to give in discourse to someone whose mind refuses to communicate with his reasoning. — Dew Platt

Once, someone told me that the music had been created by God and that rapid movement was necessary for people to get in touch with themselves. For years, i felt that this was true, and now I 'm being forced to do the most difficult thing in the world - slow down. Why is patience so important?"
"Because it makes us pay attention."
"Isn't the soul more important?"
"of course it is, but if your soul could communicate with your brain, you would be able to change even more things — Paulo Coelho

Okay, someone's been smoking the wacky tobacky. And keep your hands to yourself!" She smacked at his roving fingers, fighting the shivers following his touch. "I agreed to let you accompany me because, well...maybe you're right. We should try and put the animosity between our families-stop that!" She gripped his fingers and tried to twist them, but he easily pulled out of her grip.
Alessandro laughed. "Darling, I haven't laughed in ages like I do when I'm with you. I propose a clean slate, eh?" He sighed and sat back against the seat. "Brianna. I'm not going to give up until you are mine. You could make this so much easier if you just accept the inevitable." He lifted his hand to cup the side of her face. "We belong to each other, and you know it. — E. Jamie

No. We were jealous that Lirah had Gargarin. Cold, cold Lirah, who was bitter towards all men, loved my brother with all her heart. It made me hate her even more, because I knew this union was not one of the flesh. She hated the touch of men. He barely tolerated the touch of anyone. I couldn't bear the idea of him loving someone as much as he loved me. -Arjuro of Abroi — Melina Marchetta

I kept learning about being a widow in little, distant flashes. I saw that after a long while, if you had no one to touch you, you might eventually become someone who went to beauty parlors and paid to have strangers do your hair. You'd pay for the sensation of it, the hands of another human being pouring warmth on you, gently smoothing, stroking. You'd close your eyes and lean back into those hands and your face might have exactly that look, I thought.

Life just goes on, you see, any old way it can. Even the dead can't interrupt the flow. — Joyce Johnson

I want to lay down, but these countries are like uncles who touch you when you're young and asleep. Look at all these borders foaming at the mouth with bodies broken and desperate ... I spent days and nights in the stomach of the truck; I did not come out the same. Sometimes it feels like someone else is wearing my body. — Warsan Shire

You could miss someone, but it did no good to fixate on loss. I wished I had the ready words of a Breeder or the ability to comfort with a soft touch. I didn't. Instead I had daggers and determination.
That would have to do. — Ann Aguirre

A balanced life has a rhythym. But we live in a time, and in a culture, that encourages everyone to just move faster. I'm learning that if I don't take the time to tune in to my own more deliberate pace, I end up moving to someone else's, the speed of events around me setting a tempo that leaves me feeling scattered and out of touch with myself. I know now that I can't write fast; that words, my own thoughts and ideas, come to the surface slowly and in silence. A close relationship with myself requires slowness. Intimacy with my husband and guarded teenage sons requires slowness. A good conversation can't be hurried, it needs time in which to meander its way to revelation and insight. Even cooking dinner with care and attention is slow work. A thoughtful life is not rushed. — Katrina Kenison

There's a famous quote regarding Polanski. Perhaps Jack Nicholson said it, perhaps someone else, but it goes, "Polanski is the five-foot Pole I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole." So, yes, the world seems to despise him. I, however, love his work. It's so much funnier and well-constructed than the pompous stuff of Kubrick. Polanski balances between camp and horror in much the same way Billy Wilder did. — Chuck Palahniuk

Does anybody learn writing, or do they just touch someone who lets them see the power of the deleted word? — Richard Bach

There is a way to touch another person that tells them: "All of you is good, none of you is wrong, no part of you does not deserve acceptance." I know what that touch feels like, and it breaks open an inner yolk. You can actually feel the giving way inside, the slow flood filling your heart. When I find someone who hasn't had that touch in a long time, giving it to them doesn't feel kind, it just feels decent. — Charlotte Shane

What would you do if someone breaks your heart and just when you are set to lose yourself in that abyss of emotions and feelings that you no longer understand, when you are numbed by the pain and life seems to be whizzing past you in fast forward , at this time that person comes back to heal you, only to break your heart all over again. Would you let her touch you one more time, to heal you to break you for the third time? No? And what if that person is someone you'd loved more than life, if she had changed the way you lived , would you hold back if she stood in front of you with her arms outstretched? — Atul Randev

Funny, transformative events were not always scheduled and not always expected. Yeah, sure, your change turned you into a male. And when you went through the mating ceremony, you were part of a whole. No longer just yourself. And the deaths and the births around you made you view the world differently.
But every once in a while, from out of the blue, someone reaches the quiet place where you spend your private time and changes the way you see yourself. If you're lucky it's your mate ... the transformation reminds you once again that you are absolutely, positively with the right person: because what they say doesn't touch you because of who they are to you, but because of the content of their message.
— J.R. Ward

With the persistence of data, there is, too, the persistence of people. If you friend someone as a ten-year-old, it takes positive action to unfriend that person. In principle, everyone wants to stay in touch with the people they grew up with but social networking makes the idea of "people from one's past" close to an anachronism. Corbin reaches for a way to express his discomfort. he says "For the first time, people will stay your friends. It makes it harder to let go of your life and move on." Sanjay, sixteen, who wonders if he will be "writing on my friends' walls when I'm a grown-up," sums up his misgivings: "For the first time people can stay in touch with people all of their lives. But it used to be good that people could leave their high school friends behind and take on new identities. — Sherry Turkle

A refugee is not just someone lacking in money and everything else. A refugee is vulnerable to the slightest touch: he has lost his country, his friends, his earthly belongings. He is a stranger, sick at heart. He is suspicious; he feels misunderstood. If people smile, he thinks they ridicule him; if they look serious, he thinks they don't like him. He is a full-grown tree in the dangerous process of being transplanted, with the chance of possibly not being able to take root in the new soil. — Maria Franziska Von Trapp

Don't take for granted the effort of a person who tries to keep in touch. It's not always that someone cares so much. — Charles F. Glassman

Shea took her time braiding her hair, fussing over her blue jeans, adjusting her ribbed cotton shirt, allowing her mind time to cope with the new knowledge. It was frightening yet fascinating. She wished she had observed it in someone other than herself. It was hard to accept it clinically when it was her own body she was studying.
Such a nice body.
She nearly dropped her brush. Will you stop! Just the low velvet touch of his voice sent heat curling through her body. It was sinful and unfair to have such a voice.
I did not think you would ever speak with me as a lifemate would. I waited long for that impatient comment. There was a teasing note now. — Christine Feehan

Let me inform you of something," he says in a low voice. "The moment my lips touch yours, it will be your first kiss. Because if you've never felt anything when someone's kissed you, then no one's ever really kissed you. Not the way I plan on kissing you."
He drops his hands and keeps his eyes locked on mine while he backs up to the stove.
He turns around to tend to the pasta like he didn't just ruin me for any other guy for the rest of my life.
I can't feel my legs, so I do the only thing I can. I slide down the refrigerator until my butt meets the floor and I inhale. — Colleen Hoover

Many authors also attacked the widespread corruption among lawyers. In general, justice was recognized as being so unjust that, as Montaigne complained, ordinary people avoided it rather than seeking it out. He cited a local incident in which a group of peasants found a man lying stabbed and bleeding on a path. He begged them to give him water and help him to his feet, but they ran off, not daring to touch him in case they were held responsible for the attack. Montaigne had the job of talking to them after they were tracked down. "What could I say to them?" he wrote. They were right to be afraid. In another case he mentions, a gang of killers confessed to a murder for which someone had already been tried and was about to be executed. Surely this ought to mean a stay of execution? No, decided the court: that would set a dangerous precedent for overturning judgments. — Sarah Bakewell

Catastrophe! Of course! Last judgement! Horseshit! It's you that are the catastrophe, you're the bloody last judgement, your feet don't even touch the ground, you bunch of sleepwalkers. I wish you were dead, the lot of you. Let's make a bet,' and here he shook Nadaban by the shoulders, 'that you don't even know what I'm talking about!! Because you don't talk, you "whisper" or "expostulate"; you don't walk down the street but "proceed feverishly"; you don't enter a place but "cross its threshold", you don't feel cold or hot, but "find yourselves shivering" or "feeling the sweat pour down you"! I haven't heard a straight word for hours, you can only mew and caterwaul; because if a hooligan throws a brick through your window you invoke the last judgement, because your brains are addled and filled up with steam, because if someone sticks your nose in shit all you do is sniff, stare and cry "sorcery! — Laszlo Krasznahorkai

I greet all whom I meet today with the love of God. It can be a kind smile, an understanding pause, a touch of a hand that makes all the difference in how someone's day unfolds. I wish to be a conduit of love to those I meet, that I might know a softer way of being and a deeper sense of peace. Let me remember today that all of us are in need of love, both those who make it obvious and those who make it easy to forget. Whether showing their love or hiding it, my brothers are, as I am, in need of understanding. May I be someone who understands. May my selfish nature melt away, dear God, and compassion come to take its place. May everyone I meet or even think of today be blessed by the love I send their way. I will receive as I decide to give, and today I choose to give love. — Marianne Williamson

I think she's afraid to even hug me now. It's my fault, but I miss it, Andrew. I miss it so much it aches sometimes, you know?'
I do know. I do know, I want to tell him, but I let him talk. And he does, with a gut-wrenching honesty that tears at my heart.
'I want to be held. Is that so wrong? I want to be held, and stroked. I want to know that someone loves me. I want to feel it on my skin.' He looks at the ceiling and exhales, then meets my eyes again. 'But nobody touches me anymore. Not even when I have a fever. Mom just hands me a thermometer now.' He drops his eyes and his ears redden. 'Even when you kiss me, you don't touch me. It's like I'm a leper or something. I can hardly keep my hands off of you, but it's not the same for you, is it? — J.H. Trumble

Someone once said that marriage is like standing in a corridor lined with doors. You go off through your door, he goes through his, but at the end of the day you have to come back to the corridor, touch base, hold hands, because through every door are more doors, and beyond them, more again, and if you both go through too many without coming back to the corridor, you may never find your way back. — Carrie Adams

Dysmorphia is when someone looks in the mirror, and sees something else. While I studied my own whatever I was, I decided that maybe everyone has at least a touch of dysmorphia; maybe it's impossible for anyone to ever truly know what they look like. — Paul Rudnick

We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit. — E. E. Cummings

Or are "being" and "having" thoroughly inaccurate verbs in the twisted skein of desire, where having someone's body to touch and being that someone we're longing to touch are one and the same, just opposite banks on a river that passes from us to them, back to us and over to them again in this perpetual circuit where the chambers of the heart, like the trapdoors of desire, and the wormholes of time, and the false-bottomed drawer we call identity share a beguiling logic according to which the shortest distance between real life and the life unlived, between who we are and what we want, is a twisted staircase designed with the impish cruelty of M. C. Escher. — Andre Aciman

Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have — Henry Rollins

This was a lonely project. But perhaps there is, in all research, a time when a man is all alone and must struggle against his own doubts. Even when he holds to his course, doubts go along with him and mingle with the questions at the back of his mind. But as I have said, we have burned our bridges. I could only explore now. Most explorers are thought to be mad by someone, and all explorers are lonely. Perhaps a touch of madness is a help - that and the knowledge that someone, like Dulcinea, believes in you. — Wilder Penfield

IBM was granted a U.S. patent in 2012 on "Securing premises using surface-based computing technology." That's intellectual-property-lawyer-speak for a touch-sensitive floor covering, somewhat like a giant smartphone screen. The potential uses are plentiful. It would be able to identify the objects on it. In basic form, it could know to turn on lights in a room or open doors when a person enters. More important, however, it might identify individuals by their weight or the way they stand and walk. It could tell if someone fell and did not get back up, an important feature for the elderly. Retailers could learn the flow of traffic through their stores. When the floor is datafied, there is no ceiling to its possible uses. — Viktor Mayer-Schonberger

I'm not someone who usually sends out threats. I warn only once. The day they touch one of my men, the rule of law is over. — Augusto Pinochet

A person could last a long while without touch, but once someone had experienced the comfort, joy, and sheer relief of another human body close, the desire to experience that again was hard to deny. — Mary Johnson

The Ephebians believed that every man should have the vote (provided that he wasn't poor, foreign, nor disqualified by reason of being mad, frivolous, or a woman). Every five years someone was elected to be Tyrant, provided he could prove that he was honest, intelligent, sensible, and trustworthy. Immediately after he was elected, of course, it was obvious to everyone that he was a criminal madman and totally out of touch with the view of the ordinary philosopher in the street looking for a towel. And then five years later they elected another one just like him, and really it was amazing how intelligent people kept on making the same mistakes. — Terry Pratchett

I got in touch with a friend of mine who works at a research reactor, and asked him what he thought would happen to someone who tried to swim in their radiation containment pool. "In our reactor?" He thought about it for a moment. "You'd die pretty quickly, before reaching the water, from gunshot wounds. — Randall Munroe

Every Princess has one Prince to share the loves and joys of life, and do you know how that Princess knows which Prince is hers?"
"How Mommy?"
"From the kiss."
"But how?"
"The very first kiss with your Prince will change your life. When your lips touch for the first time, the earth will feel like it stops moving, but in the same moment, the world around you spins. It'll feel like fireworks in the night sky. Like a bright light in the darkness. You'll feel your heart beat fast in your ears but silence will surround you. And when you pull apart and open your eyes and look at each other, and really see each other. You'll know it in that moment, through that kiss, that you've just let someone own a piece of your heart, and you'll live happily ever after. — Jay McLean

The darkness behind my closed eyelids was like the cloud-covered sky, but the gray was somewhat deeper. Every few minutes, someone would come and paint over the gray with a different-textured gray - one with a touch of gold or green or red. I was impressed with the variety of grays that existed. Human beings were so strange. All you had to do was sit still for ten minutes, and you could see this amazing variety of grays. — Haruki Murakami

Seaside gusts of wind,
And a house in which we don't live,
And the shadow of a cherished cedar
In front of a forbidden window ...
Perhaps there is someone in this world
To whom I could send all these lines. Well then!
Let the lips smile bitterly
And a tremor touch the heart again. — Anna Akhmatova

At that period I paid as constant attention to the greater securing of my happiness, to enjoying and judging it, too, as I had always done for the smallest details of my acts; and what is the act of love, itself, if not a moment of passionate attention on the part of the body? Every bliss achieved is a masterpiece; the slightest error turns it awry, and it alters with one touch of doubt; any heaviness detracts from its charm, the least stupidity renders it dull. My own felicity is in no way responsible for those of my imprudences which shattered it later on; in so far as I have acted in harmony with it I have been wise. I think still that someone wiser than I might well have remained happy till his death. — Marguerite Yourcenar

The obvious example would be Jesus. Jesus is an object of fascination for me. He's an interesting historical character because we don't know much about him. He seems to be a guy who was in touch with something deeper than most people around him were and someone who was very concerned with trying to communicate that. — Brad Warner

As a demigod - Fen cleared his throat - "I am flush with power. My power can be transformed into the kind of energy you need to feed." As he spoke, his eyes sparked with something feral that sent shivers racing down my spine. "It can happen from touch, kissing, but the greatest source is during the act of..."
Ohmygodsinheaven.
"Sex? Are you referring to sex?"...
"My power becomes concentrated for... a very brief moment. It's all about the transfer of energy from one body to another." He looked wildly uncomfortable. "All who live in Asgard know this already. I've never had to explain it to someone."
His semen packs a punch? — Amanda Carlson

It is a little out of touch to presume that someone wants to follow your every observation and insight over the course of hundreds of pages without any sort of payoff. That's why writing isn't a one-way street. You have to give something back: an interesting plot, a surprise, a laugh, a moment of tenderness, a mystery for the reader to piece together. — Christopher Bollen

He thought of these yers as another life within the one he had. As though it were a thing he was able to carry. A small box. A handkerchief. A stone. He did not understand how a life could vanish. How that was even possible. How it could close in an instant before you even reach inside one last time, touch someone's hand one last time. How there would come a day when no one would wonder about the life he had before this one. — Paul Yoon

I lost my phone and I just really didn't look for it. It was the nicest feeling, like six weeks ... A couple of times I needed to use a telephone, and I was always able to touch someone that had a telephone and say, "Hey, can I use your phone? May I please?" And they'd say, "Sure." And that was it! So it was OK, it was a real vacation. I took a real vacation from myself ... — Bill Murray

When you touch someone that you love, the whole world changes. — Sakura Tsukuba

Tommy was tall and wide-hipped, but Mills couldn't tell what kind of body lay underneath the black T-shirt and jeans, what kind of person, what kind of smell or ability to reach over in the dark. There were certain things a person could only learn by touching someone else. — Christopher Bollen

Touch my song with your lips, make it immortal,
be my beloved, make my love immortal.
No restriction of age, not the bond of lives,
when someone love should see only the soul,
by carving new trend, make the trend immortal.
Loneliness of the sky is in my lone heart,
with rattleing paayal enter into my life,
by giving own breaths make the music immortal
make the music immortal, make my song immortal.
World snatched from me, whatever was beloved to me,
all won from me, I lost at every moment,
by losing your heart you make my victory immortal.
written By Honthon Se Chhoo Lo Tum - Jagjit Singh — Nirav Sanchaniya

Have you ever loved someone so intensely, so entirely ,that it's painful to be apart from them? I'm not talking about being in a long-distance relationship or even a particularly painful case of unrequited love. I'm talking about being in a completely different world from the other person, a world where you can see them and hear them but you can't touch them and they can't see or hear you. — Stacey Field

Though the world was hazy, all I could think about was love. And how I'd never had it. How I would never understand what it felt like to fall asleep knowing another person was thinking of you. I would never have someone touch the small of my back as they steered me through a crowd. I would never know the contour of someone's face off-by-heart, and yet not be bored with it. And, as I sank to the grey, chewing-gum stained carpet, all I could think was how sad that was. — Holly Bourne

I'm not really like a cop at all. I haven't got any actual authority. If someone does show up to do anything bad, I am not allowed to touch them or interfere with them in anyway. I'm a scarecrow. I'm like one of those plastic owls that are supposed to scare away the pigeons, but that the pigeons shit all over. — Joey Comeau

Missing someone is the reverberating echo of everything beautiful about her - her laugh, her song, her touch, her smell, the power of her words, and the constant shadow that lingers on as her perfect image in your memory. — Richelle E. Goodrich

I am tortured too. I am tortured by belly fat and magazine covers about how to please everyone but myself. I am tortured by sheep who click on anything that will guarantee a ten-pound loss in one week. Sheep who will get on their knees if it means someone will like them more. I am tortured by my inability to want to hang out with desperate sheep. I am tortured by goddamned yearbooks full of bullshit. I met you when. I'll miss the times. I'll keep in touch. Best friends forever. Is this okay? Are you all right? Are you tortured too? — A.S. King

Listening to someone read aloud is very different from reading in silence. When you read, you can stop or skip sentences: you are the one who sets the pace. When someone else is reading, it is difficult to make your attention coincide with the tempo of his reading: the voice goes either too fast or too slow.
And then, listening to someone who is translating from another language involves a fluctuation, a hesitation over the words, a margin of indecision, something vague, tentative. The text, when you are the reader, is something that is there, against which you are forced to clash; when someone translates it aloud to you, it is something that is and is not there, that you cannot manage to touch. — Italo Calvino

It's difficult to keep in touch with someone when you're moving around all the time. I've decided that you can have it all, but you can't have it all, all of the time. — Miranda Richardson

Alec approached me slowly, cautiously, as someone might approach a deer in the forest, afraid at any moment the animal might bolt and sprint away.
"There now," he whispered.
His hands brushed my cheeks, an infinite tenderness in his fingers, soaking into my skin, sending waves of calming love into my shattered soul. The simple touch of his skin so close to mine was enough to thaw my rigid body. I raised my eyes to his, uncertain, but no longer afraid. — Nikki Landis

I was left with half an obsession, one side of the deviant coin. Now I needed to reach out and touch someone. I needed to be touched. Hennessey — Skye Warren

Someone spoke of your death, Heraclitus. It brought me Tears, and I remembered how often together We ran the sun down with talk ... somewhere You've long been dust, my Halicarnassian friend. But your Nightingales live on. Though the Death world Claws at everything, it will not touch them. — Callimachus

Titus's jaw dropped. 'Those caravanists, they were mages?'
'They most certainly were.'
'But one fainted and two reached for their rifles when they saw the sand wyvern.'
'It's a good policy for at least one member of the group to pretend to fall unconscious at a mage sighting. And I always think the rifles are a touch of genius - any time you see someone holding a firearm, your instinct is to dismiss that person as a nonmage. — Sherry Thomas

Well, friends, learning about the "world" is not pretending you're a hooker while a guy from the part of New Jersey that's near Pennsylvania decides which Steely Dan record to put on at 4:00 A.M. The secrets of life aren't being revealed when someone laughs at you for having studied creative writing. There is no enlightenment to be gained from letting your semiboyfriend's bald friend touch your thigh too close to the place where it meets your crotch, but you let it happen because you think you might be in love. — Lena Dunham

He had written this book only in the hope that she might get in touch with him. Writing a book, for him, was also a way of beaming a searchlight or sending out coded signals to certain people with whom he had lost touch. It was enough to scatter their names at random through the pages and wait until they finally produced news of themselves. — Patrick Modiano

His wax-white skin was cool to the touch when she brushed his neck to find the knot of cloth. She'd never been this close to a vampire,never realized what it would be like to be so near to someone who didn't breathe, who could be as still as any statue. His chest neither rose not fell. Her hands shook. — Holly Black

Feelings aroused by the touch of someone's hand, the sound of music, the smell of a flower, a beautiful sunset, a work of art, love, laughter, hope and faith - all work on both the unconscious and the conscious aspects of the self, and they have physiological consequences as well. — Bernie Siegel

You can easily tell when someone has been hit by a spear. he turns a deep shade of bitter. David never got hit. Gradually, he learned a very well-kept secret ...
One, never learn anything about the fashionable, easily mastered art of spear throwing. Two, stay out of the company of all spear throwers. And three, keep your mouth tightly closed.
In this way, spears will never touch you, even when they pierce your heart. — Gene Edwards

Toadstools
The toadstools are starting to come
up,
circular and dry.
Nothing will touch them,
Gophers or chipmunks, wasps or swallows.
They glow in the twilight like rooted will-o'-the-wisps.
Nothing will touch them.
As though little roundabouts from the bunched unburiable,
Powers, dominions,
As though orphans rode herd in the short grass,
as though they had heard the call,
They will always be with us,
transcenders of the world.
Someone will try to stick his beak into their otherworldly styrofoam.
Someone may try to taste a taste of forever.
For some it's a refuge, for some a shady place to fall down.
Grief is a floating barge-boat,
who knows where it's going to moor? — Charles Wright

You can find yourself a decent,
honorable man, one to love you, respect you, cherish you. Someone with
morals, with a decent job and a good future. That's what you think you
want, isn't it? Not some white trash from Alabama. Not some ex-con
who's running the scam of a lifetime. You're so good and decent, the very
thought of me disgusts you, doesn't it?" His voice was low and seductive
as he pushed the words at her.
She met his gaze with what she hoped was a fearless one of her own.
"Yes," she said.
"Then tell me, Rachel," he said, letting his hand toy with the loose
neckline of her tunic, "why aren't you out somewhere, fucking your little
gentleman's brains out? Why are you here with me, quivering when I
touch you? — Anne Stuart

I don't call people for help. It's not because of the way I was raised, at least I don't think so; it's the
way I was made. Johanna once said that if I was drowning at Dark Score Lake, where we have a summer home, I would die silently fifty feet out from the public beach rather than yell for help. It's
not a question of love or affection. I can give those and I can take them. I feel pain like anyone else.
I need to touch and be touched. But if someone asks me, 'Are you all right?' I can't answer no. I
can't say help me. — Stephen King

And more than that, Bodee left me with hope. For love. For wanting someone to touch me again and to lie with me without fear as my first response. Because Bodee slept in his sneakers, because Bodee asked for a kiss instead of just taking it, and because he kept space between us. He danced with two fingers until I asked for three or four ... and his hand on my hip.
I know we're both still broken. Both of us. But Bodee's got the glue to make us whole.
He is love. — Courtney C. Stevens

If you say to someone who has ears to hear: "What you are doing to me is not just," you may touch and awaken at its source the spirit of attention and love. But it is not the same with words like, "I have the right ... " or "you have no right to ... " They evoke a latent war and awaken the spirit of contention. — Simone Weil

In short, chronological connectivity puts us in touch with the holy. It is at once humbling and exhilarating. I say this as someone who has never followed any formal religious practice. Connection with the past and the future is a pathway that charms us in the direction of sanity and grace. — James Howard Kunstler

The priest rose to take up the crucifix; at that, she strained her neck forward like someone who is thirsty, and, pressing her lips to the body of the Man-God, she laid upon it with all her expiring strength the most passionate kiss of love she had ever given. Then he recited the Miserateur and the Indulgentiam, dipped his right thumb in the oil, and began he unctions: first on the eyes, which had so coveted all earthly splendors; then on the nostrils, greedy for mild breezes and the smells of love; then on the mouth, which had opened to utter lies, which had moaned with pride and cried out in lust; then on the hands, which had delighted in the touch of smooth material; and lastly on the soles of the feet, once so quick when she hastened to satiate her desires and which now would never walk again. — Vladimir Nabokov

You know what is the worst thing in the world?
You are amidst this crowd, a swarm of people,
Who think they connect with you,
Every one of them, in their own way.
But in reality, you are being ripped apart,
Connecting with each one of them.
It is a constant struggle to connect with someone,
To be heard,to be understood,to be loved, to be accepted.
And it is done with a glimpse of hope,
That someone from these known and unknown faces,
Will hear you out, someone with a warm & genuine smile,
Will touch your heart.
And that's precisely when,perhaps,you would say,
Yes, THIS IS ME. — Sachin Garg

Of course someone would be that stupid. Some humans would do anything to see if it was possible to do it. If you put a large switch in some cave somewhere, with a sign on it saying 'End-of-the-World Switch. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH', the paint wouldn't even have time to dry. She — Terry Pratchett

I imagine the touch of someone who loves you so much, he cannot bear to watch you sleep; and so you wake up with his hand on your heart. — Jodi Picoult

In a novel you always knew the moment when something Happened, when someone Changed. But real life was full of gradual, piecemeal, continuous transformation. It was full of accidents and undefineables, and things that just happened on their own. The only certainty was 'It's complicated,' whether or not unicorns tolerated your touch. — Scott Westerfeld

There are pitfalls in World Cups, there are players who can win penalties and players who get the slightest touch and go down holding their face or whatever and get someone sent off. There are all these little things and you're hoping that you're not on the wrong end of it. — Michael Owen

Can I persuade you that if you let a driver into your lane, or thank a sales clerk, or smile at someone in a hallway, you can change his or her life? Of course not - but if you don't go through the day with the assumption that small moments and small gestures can touch people's lives, what is the alternative belief? — Robert Maurer

I'd never made love with anyone but Nico. This thought occurred to me as we were lying in my bed, touching each other. Touching is the difference between making love and having sex. The physical act of making love expresses the desire to touch someone and to be touched in return. A hunger for your partner consumes you. It's an insatiable craving. It's a need for his skin, his hands, his mouth; it's a need to see his eyes. It must be fed every second or else it builds into something unmanageably urgent and ferocious. — Penny Reid

Rhys gave no warning as he gripped my arm, snarling softly, and tore off my glove. His touch was like a brand, and I flinched, yielding a step, but he held firm until he'd gotten both gloves off. " I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no."
"I didn't say anything."
He turned my bare hand over, his hold tightening as he examined the eye he'd tattooed. He tapped the pupil. Once. Twice. " I heard it loud and clear. — Sarah J. Maas

They were happy to help someone, to succeed at something, even if they weren't to benefit. We'd been trying to touch the sky from the bottom of the ocean. I realised that if we boosted one another, maybe we'd get a little closer. — Hwang Sok-yong

What would it be like to make it so late into life before trouble hit? To always have someone on the front porch, calling you to dinner? The husband doesn't have even a touch of this raised-by-wolvesness. — Jenny Offill

Only boxers can understand the loneliness of tennis players - and yet boxers have their corner men and managers. Even a boxer's opponent provides a kind of companionship, someone he can grapple with and grunt at. In tennis you stand face-to-face with the enemy, trade blows with him, but never touch him or talk to him, or anyone else. The rules forbid a tennis player from even talking to his coach while on the court. People sometimes mention the track-and-field runner as a comparably lonely figure, but I have to laugh. At least the runner can feel and smell his opponents. They're inches away. In tennis you're on an island. Of all the games men and women play, tennis is the closest to solitary confinement ... — Andre Agassi

The writers I most enjoy reading, even in gritty, down-to-earth genres, have a touch of the poet in them; they can create original, evocative images and make words do things they hadn't known they could. Writing my first novel left me feeling that the most important quality for a writer is empathy, the ability to see the world through the eyes of someone from a vastly different background. Especially, to create engaging villains, you have to see how the world makes sense from their point of view, even if it's the polar opposite of yours. For me, a good villain is one who makes the reader ask, "If I had the same experience as this person, can I be absolutely sure I wouldn't have done the same things? — Charles Kowalski

A flicker of someone else's memory came to Simon and he picked up Excalibur from where he had dropped it. Carefully, he laid Excalibur on Arthur's chest. A smile crossed the king's pasty face as he closed his grazed hands around the sword's hilt. The touch of something so familiar seemed to give Arthur cause to close his eyes and after a final, relieved breath left his lips, he died. — Sam Whitehouse

You are on the inside. Deep in your muscles. That's you. The body is the extension of you. Only give someone your fingers, your skin, and toes if they deserve to touch your soul. — Rebecca Maizel

If you want to speak to someone you cannot touch, see, or hear, the voice of love will transmit with or without a phone. It crosses all borders and travels through time and walls. — Julieanne O'Connor

I don't know when love became elusive
what i know, is that no one i know has it
my fathers arms around my mothers neck
fruit too ripe to eat, a door half way open
when your name is a just a hand i can never hold
everything i have ever believed in, becomes magic.
i think of lovers as trees, growing to and
from one another searching for the same light,
my mothers laughter in a dark room,
a photograph greying under my touch,
this is all i know how to do, carry loss around until
i begin to resemble every bad memory,
every terrible fear,
every nightmare anyone has ever had.
i ask did you ever love me?
you say of course, of course so quickly
that you sound like someone else
i ask are you made of steel? are you made of iron?
you cry on the phone, my stomach hurts
i let you leave, i need someone who knows how to stay. — Warsan Shire

That's the beauty of coaching. You get to touch lives, you get to make a difference. You get to do things for people who will never pay you back and they say you never have had a perfect day until you've done something for someone who will never pay you back. — Morgan Wootten

The human touch is a necessary element of life. Sometimes a simple hug could mean the world to someone. Go ahead, hug someone toady. — Sanjo Jendayi

Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching us as we go through the movements again. When he stops in front of me, my insides twist like someone is stirring them with a fork. He stares at me, his eyes following my body from my head to my feet, not lingering anywhere - a practical, scientific gaze.
"You don't have much muscle", he says, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."
Suddenly he presses a hand to my stomach. His fingers are so long that, though the heel of his hand touches one side of my rib cage, his fingertips still touch the other side. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts, and I stare at him, wide-eyed.
"Never forget to keep tension here", he says in a quiet voice.
Four lifts his hand and keeps walking. I feel the pressure of his palm even after he's gone. It's strange, but I have to stop and breathe for a few seconds before I can keep practicing again. — Veronica Roth

It happened all the time. Maybe someone had a legitimate gripe that deserved airing. Maybe someone had a compliment that shouldn't go unspoken. No one said a thing. So long and stay in touch, that's usually all we said. Take care of yourself, good luck. We said nothing about affection, appreciation, admiration. — Joshua Ferris

Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.
At other times, it is allowing another to take yours. — Vera Nazarian

Loneliness is a hard thing to handle. I feel it, sometimes. When I do, I want it to end. Sometimes, when you're near someone, when you touch them on some level that is deeper than the uselessly structured formality of casual civilized interaction, there's a sense of satisfaction in it. Or at least, there is for me. It doesn't have to be someone particularly nice. You don't have to like them. You don't even have to want to work with them. You might even want to punch them in the nose. Sometimes just making that connection is its own experience, its own reward. — Jim Butcher

When you love someone, there's a pattern to the way you come together. You might not even realize it, but your bodies are choreographed: a touch on the hip, a stroke of the hair. A staccato kiss, break away, a longer one. It's a routine, but not in the boring sense of the word. It's just the way you've learned to fit. — Jodi Picoult

... how it would be nice if, for every sea waiting for us, there would be a river, for us.
And someone -a father, a lover, someone- able to take us by the hand and find that river -imagine it, invent it- and put us on its stream, with the lightness of one only word, goodbye. This, really, would be wonderful. It would be sweet, life, every life. And things wouldn't hurt, but they would get near taken by stream, one could first shave and then touch them and only finally be touched. Be wounded, also. Die because of them. Doesn't matter. But everything would be, finally, human. It would be enough someone's fancy -a father, a lover, someone- could invent a way, here in the middle of the silence, in this land which don't wanna talk. Clement way, and beautiful.
A way from here to the sea. — Alessandro Baricco

Though spiritual truth is inscrutable, still we all benefit from it through the embodiment of form. Just as you see the changes brought by the stars, moon and sun turning in the sky, the rain from clouds in due season, summer and winter, and all the transformations of time. You see all these things happen, and know that it is right and in accordance with wisdom. But how does that distant cloud know it is necessary to rain at its appointed time? Or how does this earth, when it receives a seed, know to return it tenfold? Well, Someone does this. Behold that Someone through the embodiment of this world, and find nourishment. Just as you use the body of another person to contact their essence, use the embodiment of this world to touch That reality. — Rumi

I wanted to touch her; just cup my hand over the curve of her cheek and tell her to make this moment last, because before she knew it she'd be like me, a witness to someone else's moment. — Jodi Picoult

We're not going to argue about this, Al. That's what he wants. Won't let him do it."
"Do what?"
He wraps the hair I'm playing with around his wrist and tugs me close, bowing his head so our brows touch. "Come between us."
My entire body goes soft and warm at the gruff possessiveness in his voice, but he doesn't have a right to it. "Did you forget? There's already someone between us. You're moving with her to London."
"I was an idiot. To think for one second that being on the other side of the ocean could give me any control. — A.G. Howard

So many people overlook the small things. The way someone's laugh makes you smile. The way their eyes can captivate you. How the way they speak can enlighten you, encourage you, inspire you. A touch of their hand to yours. A quick kiss on the cheek. An 'I love you. — Jennifer Reinfried

To fill our lives with joy, the morning sun touches our hearts with the warmth of her kindness and the light of her love. Let us be like the sun touch someone's life with kindness every morning. — Debasish Mridha

I'm not your pet project anymore. I don't fucking need you to help me adjust because let's face it ... I'm doing just fine here. I've played by all your silly rules. I eat with my fucking utensils, and I don't go around killing people on a whim. I understand your rules, and nothing about this world freaks me out. And I was tired of fucking hiding what we have. Do you know how much it kills me not to be able to touch you when I want, or to keep my eyes averted for fear someone might guess that were fucking each other? I was sick of it, and I'm glad I did it, and I'd do it again. So be pissed at me if you want, but I'm fucking the remaining bitterness out of you tonight. — Sawyer Bennett