Touch It With My Heart Quotes & Sayings

My Heart Is a Holy Place

My heart is a holy place
Wiser and holier than I know it to be
Wiser than my lips can speak
A spring of mystery and grace.
You have created my heart
And have filled it with things of wonder.
You have sculpted it, shaped it with your hands
Touched it with your breath.
In its own season it reveals itself to me.
It shows me rivers of gold
Flowing in elegance
And hidden paths of infinite beauty.
You touch me with your stillness as I await its time.
You have made it a dwelling place of richness and intricacies
Of wisdom beyond my understanding
Of grace and mysteries, from your hands. — Patricia Van Ness

I'm Free "

Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free.
I'm following the path God laid for me.
I took God's hand when I heard the call;

I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day

To laugh, to love, to work or play.

Tasks left undone must stay that way,
I found that place at the close of day.
If my parting has left a void,

Then fill it with remembered joy.

A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss.
Ah, yes, these things, I too, will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow,

I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life's been full, I savored much,

Good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief;

don't lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, God set me free. — Harold S. Kushner

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

He raises his hand to my face again and I allow the touch. His fingers slide along my jawline and the warmth of his caresses radiates past my skin and into my bloodstream. Pleasing goose bumps rise on my neck.
"Do you think you'll come back sometime?" he asks. "And let me help you with your car?"
My ears ring with the staccato thrum, thrum, thrum of my heart. Holy crap, I can't believe this is happening to me.
"I'll make it work. I swear." The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. That's not true. Actually, they tumble out with a lot of thought of how my parents won't approve, of how my brothers will kill Isaiah, then possibly kill me. But in this moment, I don't care what any of them think. — Katie McGarry

So there would be two of them, probably armed, which probably meant guns, since this was Miami. And it might mean Bobby Acosta, too, who would have some kind of weapon, since he was a wealthy fugitive. And I was in a small room with no place to hide, and I was burdened with Samantha, who would probably yell, "Watch out!" at them if I tried to surprise them. On the plus side, my heart was pure and I had a bent tire iron. It wasn't much, but I have learned that if you examine the situation carefully, you can almost always find a way to improve your odds. I stood up and looked around the room, thinking that someone might have left an assault rifle lying on a shelf; I even made myself touch the jars and look behind them, but no such luck. "Hey," Samantha said. "If you're thinking, like, you know - I mean, I don't want to be rescued or anything. — Jeff Lindsay

There were several recently dug graves in the churchyard, but I found only one that was freshly dug and covered with fresh flowers. I had known Anna only from a few laughing words, from the light in her eyes, a touch of hands and a fleeting kiss, but I felt an ache inside me such as I had not felt since I was a child, since my father's death. I looked up at the church steeple, a dark arrow pointing at the moon and beyond, and tried with all my heart and mind to believe she was up there somewhere in that vast expanse of infinity, up there in Sunday-school Heaven, in Big Joe's happy Heaven. I couldn't bring myself to think it. I knew she was lying in the cold earth at my feet. I knelt down and kissed the earth, then left her there. The moon sailed above me, following behind me, through the trees, lighting my way back to camp. By the time I got there I had no more tears left to cry. The — Michael Morpurgo

For a long time I didn't have a defined Dana doctrine to describe this approach; it was more a ball of string. Then one morning at a hotel I came back to my room for bed after a speaking event, and the hotel staff had placed a Zen card with a Buddhist saying on my pillow (this will make Gutfeld roll his eyes). It read, "Say little. But when you speak, utter gentle words that touch the heart. Be truthful. Express kindness. Abstain from vanity. This is the way." I had an "Aha!" moment when I read those words, because it captured how I was trying to live my life most productively and happily. I carried the card with me for months until I tacked it in my medicine cabinet, and I still see it every morning and night when I brush my teeth. The card is a little worn, but its message never gets old. In the morning it helps set my intention for the day, and at night it reminds me to forgive myself if I haven't lived up to it (usually because I've let Bob Beckel push my buttons). — Dana Perino

This could be the last night of our lives, certainly the last even barely ordinary one. The last night we go to sleep and get up just as we always have. And all I could think of was that I wanted to spend it with you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Jace-"
"I don't mean it like that," he said. "I won't touch you, not if you don't want me to. I know it's wrong - God, it's all kinds of wrong - but I just want to lie down with you and wake up with you, just once, just once ever in my life." There was desperation in his voice. "It's just this one night. In the grand scheme of things, how much can this one night matter?"
... There was nothing she had ever wanted in her life more than she wanted this night with Jace.
"Close the curtains, then, before you come to bed," she said. "I can't sleep with this much light in the room. — Cassandra Clare

There is a frontier-line in human closeness
That love and passion cannot violate
Though in silence mouth to mouth be soldered
And passionate devotion cleave the heart.
Here friendship, too, is powerless, and years
Of that sublime and fiery happiness
When the free soul has broken clear
From the slow languor of voluptuousness.
Those striving towards it are demented, and
If the line seem close enough to broach
Stricken with sadness ... Now you understand
Why my heart does not beat beneath your touch. — Anna Akhmatova

Without a conscious thought to do so, he went down on his knees in front of her, grasping both her hands. If she wouldn't look up at him, she could
look down at him. Her tiny, surprised intake of breath caught in the air between them. He lifted her knuckles to his lips, aching so hard to touch
some part of her. Being away from you has been ... hell. I could wax poetic and tell you it's been like being torn away from my own soul, or missing a
shard of my heart, but in the end it's been absolute torment. I'm missing all those things if I'm not with you. — Cherrie Lynn

The hands of those I meet are dumbly eloquent to me. The touch of some hands is an impertinence. I have met people so empty of joy, that when I clasped their frosty finger-tips, it seemed as if I were shaking hands with a northeast storm. Others there are whose hands have sunbeams in them, so that their grasp warms my heart. It may be only the clinging touch of a child's hand; but there is as much potential sunshine in it for me as there is in a loving glance for others. A hearty handshake or a friendly letter gives me genuine pleasure. — Helen Keller

My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee to-night.
This said,
he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand ... a simple thing,
Yet I wept for it!
this, ... the paper's light ...
Said, Dear I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine
and so its ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast.
And this ... O Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last! — Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I ate lunch with Keira today. Second day in a row," I told him, then winced at how stupid that sounded.
Rider's grin turned into a full smile, transforming his handsome face into the kind of masculine beauty that was like a punch to the chest. "That's really good, Mallory." His voice dropped as he reached over, curving his hand over my arm. There was a near electric rush from his touch. "I'm proud of you. For real."
Giddiness surrounded my heart as I stared at his large hand, darker than my own. He knew how big that was, and I didn't feel so idiotic. He got it. He got me. And that meant the entire universe to me. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

No one can ever use his heart to listen or touch or feel or see or smell. It's just a lump of muscle pumping mechanically inside your ribs. It has no will and no ability to do anything but go on pumping until it gives up and withers away or is choked by some disease. Your spinal cord, on the other hand, feels. The central nervous system pours out from the spinal cord, and with it one feels pain. Pain is the most trustworthy sensation a human being can know because it teaches us what hurts. With the spinal cord, one can hear what will hurt, smell the sting of suffering, taste it, feel it, and see the world with new eyes. I learned a long time ago not to follow my heart, the hunk of meat flexing in the chest. I trust the tube locked up in a column of bone, the tube that shows me what pain is. — Joshua S. Porter

We got an expression ride back to the palace of Hades. Nico sent word ahead, thanks to some ghost he summoned out of the ground, and within a few minutes the Three Furies themselves arrived to ferry us back. They weren't thrilled about lugging Bob the Titan, too, but I didn't have the heart to leave him behind, especially after he noticed my shoulder wound, said, "Owie", and healed it with a touch. — Rick Riordan

It is the fate of modern life that we repeatedly lose touch with nature, the environment, the planet. But we try to regain it again and again. It's like a circle. In children's hearts and souls when they're born into the world, nature already exists deep inside them. So what I want to do in my work is tap into their souls — Hayao Miyazaki

But how shall I tell you all these things," he said, the line of his mouth twisting. "And then say to you
it is only you I have ever loved? How should you believe me?"
The question hung in the air between us, shimmering like the reflection from the water below.
"If you say it," I said, "I'll believe you." ...
"Only you," he said, so softly I could barely hear him. "To worship ye with my body, give ye all the service of my hands. To give ye my name, and all my heart and soul with it. Only you. Because ye will not let me lie - and yet ye love me."
I did touch him then.
"Jamie," I said softly, and laid my hand on his arm. "You aren't alone anymore. — Diana Gabaldon

She's it. She's my everything. She's the standard by which I'll judge beauty for the rest of my life. I'll measure every touch to her breath on my skin. Every voice to her voice. Every mind to her mind. My measure of perfection. The name carved into me. If I could, I would lie with her under these stars until my heart burst. — Jeff Zentner

Hammer does not think he will make it through this next winter. His breath comes short in his chest, and it takes much effort for him to get up and dressed. My body is still creaky and sound, but with every labor of his breath, I think that my heart will not endure. Enduring were Hammer's gift, not mine, and I will not endure a life in which he does not laugh by my side and touch my hand, wish for the best things for me, and rejoice when I have them. My sturdy, blessed, stoic Hammer - how can life be, without him? — Amy Lane

To my unsuspecting love.
When I look into your eyes, I lose all sense of time and place. Reason robbed, clear thought erased, I am lost in the paradise I find within your gaze.
I long to touch your blushing cheek, to whisper in your ear how I adore you, how I have lost my heart to you, how I cannot bear the thought of living without you.
To be so near to you without touching you is agony. Your blindness to my feelings is a daily torment, and I feel driven to the edge of madness by my love for you.
Where is your compassion when I need it most? Open your eyes , Love, and see what is right before you: that I am not merely a friend, but a man deeply, desperately , in love with you.
Longing for you. — Julianne Donaldson

My skin is on fire with every touch, every contact, and my body throbs with unfamiliar need. We're dangerously close to throwing caution to the wind. Logan's body pulses and trembles over and under me, and I know he's feeling it too. I want to give into it, to go there with him. I want him to be my first, my last, my one and only. I want to give myself to him fully; heart, mind, body and soul, but I can't. The acknowledgment assaults me with soul-shattering clarity. — Siobhan Davis

Otto Cone as a man of seventy-plus years jumped into an open lift shaft and died. Now this was a subject which Alicia Cone, who would readily discuss the most taboo matters refused to touch upon. Why does a survivor of the camps live forty years then complete the job the monsters didn't get done? Does great evil eventually triumph no matter how strenuously it is resisted? Does it leave a sliver of ice in the blood working its way through until it reaches the heart? Or worse, can a man's death be incompatible with his life? Alicia, who's first response on hearing of her father's death had been fury, flung such questions as these at her mother, who stone-faced beneath a broad-brimmed black hat said only, You have inherited his lack of restraint my dear. — Salman Rushdie

I didn't want to be draped in silk. All I ever wanted was to reach out and touch another human being not just with my hands but with my heart. I saw the world and its lack of compassion, its harsh, grating judgement, and its cold, resentful eyes. I saw it all around me. — Tahereh Mafi

Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer- nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the supersensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited- waited with beating heart. — Bram Stoker

You're crying?" he said.
"No, I- " I tore my gaze away. "Just dust. From the path. Simon's that way."
I tried to pass him, but he stooped, trying to get a loom of my face. When I wouldn't let him, he caught my chin. I jerked back, flinching at his touch, heart thudding at it, too.
I told myself Simon was wrong. I'd never be dumb enough to fall for Derek. But I had. With him so close, my stomach kept doing weird flips. It wasn't fear. It hadn't been fear for awhile.
"You have been crying," he said, voice softer. — Kelley Armstrong

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

I don't want you to stop talking to me because I hear everything you say. And I like sleeping next to you and holding your hand. It makes my heart beat fast when I touch you. I've only ever felt that way with you, Ellie. — A Meredith Walters

We are staring at each other, forgetting about the harsh reality and I can feel my heart reacting. He touches my cheek and the familiar electric current runs through me. His hands are warm, caressing my pale skin. His deep-blue eyes are filled with serenity and passion. I keep telling myself to breathe, but I am unable to exhale the air from my lungs. Then he leans forward and his lips touch mine, increasing the temperature in my body. He kisses me gently, trying to break his way through, testing to see if I let him in. His lips are sweet and warm. A few seconds later it is all over and he disappears once again, leaving me uncontrollably awake and trying to gather my wild thoughts. — Joanna Mazurkiewicz

I remember what it feels like to come with open hands and heart and I am, again, awed by the Story of in the beginning, water into wine, love held by nails, the veil torn, resurrected life. He is real, more real than anything I will ever see with my eyes, hear with my ears, or touch with my hands. — Lisa Whittle

I'm not Jet so I can't write you a song that makes you understand how important you are to me. I'm not Nash so I can't find a building and paint you a mural that makes see that it all starts and ends with you for me. I'm a tattoo artist, I'll probably always be a tattoo artist ( ... ) Here's my heart Shaw. You have it in your hands
and I promise you're the first and last person to ever touch it. You need to
be careful with it because it's far more fragile than I ever thought and if you try and give it back I'm not taking it. — Jay Crownover

Until she walked into my life I was simply a violin of rusted notes. In one night she rearranged the mess inside me, exposing the symphony was there all along it just needed a conductor to make my pulse compose to the harmonies of her celestial touch. Those notes are strung up neatly now, the five lines of the stave crammed with adulation, filling sheets, unleashing a sonata of adoration, drumming my heart and strumming my veins. — Poppet

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

Eve Byron has a permanent place on my must-buy list. Her characters are three-dimensional men and women who live on in readers' hearts long after they've turned the last page. ONLY IN MY DREAMS is pure Eve Byron, which means it's a pure delight. I fell in love with Lorelei and Dane, two of the most delightful characters I've encountered in a very long time. Byron's magical touch never falters. ONLY IN MY DREAMS is a surefire hit! — Barbara Bretton

I love you. Been wantin' to say it to you again. But this is better."
"What?"
"Showin' you that I love you. Every inch of you. Because I know every inch of this beautiful body. I know where to touch you to make you sigh. To make you moan. To make you cry out. This body knows me. It knows my intent every time I'm naked with you. But today I want your heart to know my intent. Because, baby, I want to prove to you that if you give it over to me as easily as you do your body, I'll cherish it. — Lorelei James

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

Hush, Sophie. You're beautiful." It was, mostly, a quote from the movie, and it finished Elijah off. Shutting his eyes, he leaned into Baz's touch. "Don't eat my heart, Howl." "Never," Baz vowed, sealing the promise with a kiss. — Heidi Cullinan

Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger.

I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest.

Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar.

When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of many. — Rabindranath Tagore

Here's my heart Shaw. You have it in your hands and I promise you're the first and last person to ever touch it. You need to be careful with it because it's far more fragile than I ever thought and if you try and give it back I'm not taking it. I don't know enough about love to know for sure that's what this between us is, but I know that for me it's you and only you from here on out and I can only promise to be careful and not push you away again. Life without you in it is doable, but if I have a choice I want to do it with you by my side and I'm telling you I'm not running away from the work it takes to make that happen. Shaw I'm not scared of us anymore. — Jay Crownover

It is also to choose to live more mindfully. It is to have direct and wholehearted participation in life: the taste and touch of actual things; the experience of the moment; the delight inherent in creative doing. Lose the possibilities of such experiences and a sense of boredom can begin its subtle but insidious invasion of the human heart. It is then that we most feel the need to fill the vacuum with a consoling substitute: another dress, another computer game or holiday. It is not acquisitiveness but boredom which can lead to regular and compulsory shopping - ' retail therapy' - as a relief from the lacuna of an unfulfilled life. My experience tells me that the — John Lane

How do people know for certain when they find their lifemate?"
Julian's smile was like a physical touch, a soft caress. "I have lived centuries without seeing color or feeling emotion.And then I found you. The world is now beautiful again and filled with life, with color, with so much intense emotion I can barely process it. When I look at you my body is alive. My heart is overwhelmed. You are the one."
"What happens if the woman does not feel it also?" Desari asked, curious. This was an entirely new concept to her, one she had never considered.
"There is only one true lifemate for each of us. If the male feels it, so does his mate." His white teeth flashed at her. "Perhaps she might wish to be stubborn and not admit it right away, not wanting her freedom curtailed for all time. Because there are so few of our women, they are guarded carefully from birth and given into the care of their lifemate as soon as they are of age. — Christine Feehan

I Miss You Outside the sun is shining, and the roses are in bloom. The sky this morning is so lovely, but here I sit in gloom. Outside the birds are singing, but in here, no beauty resides. For my heart is empty, shattered and broken, and will be 'til you're back by my side. Honey, I miss you every morning, and at night when I go to bed. I remember the times you were with me, and all the things that we said. And I miss your touch; the touch that makes me feel so much a man. I miss the smell of your hair, and the softness of your hands. I miss holding you in my arms and feeling your lips on mine. I miss hearing your sweet voice, which sounds so loving and kind. But most of all, I miss your warm tender body next to me as I sleep. I feel so empty when you're not here; I lie awake all night and weep. Because without your love, my life is over and I'll spend the rest of it being blue. So please say you love me and come back; for sweetheart, I miss you. — Kenneth Edward Barnes

Ah, sweet torture. This was the part I dreaded the most. When our eyes clashed, and everything, every horrible, wonderful, painful, ugly, beautiful, torturous, ruinous, gory bit of us came back to me. It was bad enough when I didn't have to look at him. But when I did - exquisite torment, with a touch of pleasure so concentrated, so brutally pure it had ruined my life. Broken my heart. Eviscerated my soul. I'd scraped what was left of that pathetic soul out myself, sawed it into little pieces and left it somewhere far behind. — R.K. Lilley

If you want some advice - which I'm sure you don't - you guys should lay off on the magic. Christian still thinks you're moving in on Lissa."
"What?" he asked in mock astonishment. "Doesn't he know my heart belongs to you?"
"It does not. And no, he's still worried about it, despite what I've told him."
"You know, I bet if we started making out right now, it would make him feel better."
"If you touch me," I said pleasantly, "I'll provide you with the opportunity to see if you can heal yourself. Then we'd see how badass you really are. — Richelle Mead

Tess, Tess, Tessa.
Was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name? To speak it aloud makes my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, isn't it - a heart ringing? But when you touch me, that is what it is like, as if my heart is ringing in my chest and the sound shivers down my veins and splinters my bones with joy. — Cassandra Clare

I want to tell you something." He placed her palm against her cheek, rough with stubble. "In my life, I've been with women I didn't care about and women I cared a great deal about. But I've never been with a woman who makes me feel the way you do." He lowered his head and whispered against her lips, "Sometimes when I look at you, it's hard to breath. When you touch me, I don't care about breathing." He kissed her slow and sweet, and with each press of his lips and touch of his tongue, her heart swelled and ached. It was wonderful and awful and brand-new. Then he pulled back to say, "I don't know how this is all going to work out, but I want to be with you. You are important to me. — Rachel Gibson

How are things with you, sir?"
"Fine." He says it flat."Coffee black. BLT."
Now my heart tells me this guy needs more in life, so I take a short. "You ever had a cheese burger with grilled onions and mushrooms on pumpernickel, sir?"
That takes a minute to sink in.
Then he slaps the counter, grinning. "Bring it on."
I sense he needs more.
"You want a malt with that, by any chance?"
He did, of course. "Chocolate," he says, beaming like a kid.
Now he's loosening up.
It's a privilege to touch humanity in such a fashion. — Joan Bauer

There is nothing - no circumstance, no trouble, no testing - that can ever touch me until, first of all it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment. But as I refuse to become panicky, as I lift up my eyes to him and accept it as coming from the throne of God for some great purpose of blessing to my own heart, no sorrow will ever disturb me, no trial will ever disarm me, no circumstance will cause me to fret - for I shall rest in the joy of what my Lord is - That is the rest of victory.1 — Elizabeth George

Do you hurt uncle Kisten', he asked.( ... ) but Kisten beat me to it. "Only my heart, Audric," he said. "Ms. Rachel is like the sun. See her sparkling there with the wind in her hair and fire in her eyes? You can't catch the sun. You can only feel its touch on your face. And if you get too much of it, it burns you. — Kim Harrison

People often ask me what advice I have for writers, and I reply that the most important responsibility I believe a writer has is to his or her personal truth. Don't be misled by the best seller lists. Just do what feels true to you. Speak your heart, however strange or revelatory it is. Don't be ashamed of how your imagination works. What a reader wants to discover in a book is what you hold uniquely in your head.I think making stories which touch people deeply is always hard. I've been writing plays and books for 20 years and I still go to my desk every morning with a mixture of excitement and dread. — Clive Barker

Do you remember the sight we saw, my soul,
that soft summer morning
round a turning in the path,
the disgusting carcass on a bed scattered with stones,
its legs in the air like a woman in need
burning its wedding poisons
like a fountain with its rhythmic sobs,
I could hear it clearly flowing with a long murmuring sound,
but I touch my body in vain to find the wound.
I am the vampire of my own heart,
one of the great outcasts condemned to eternal laughter
who can no longer smile.
Am I dead?
I must be dead. — Charles Baudelaire

His touch is incredible, it holds my insides, my heart, my mind, shimmering hot heat into cold places, thawing my spirit ... and it rejoices. I'm immediately obsessed, consumed with need to stay in this balmy light, soaking in his touch, relishing the euphoria it brings to my discarded spirituality. — Poppet

Your art is so abstract that I can only see it through my mind's eye and touch it through my heart. — Debasish Mridha

Remember children, once I am gone I will be part of it all
Everything will be me and together be free
The songs of the birds will be my voice in joyous refrain
The caress of the soft summer breeze will be my touch from afar
The sunset in glorious golden red hues, my display of love
The soft murmur of the stream as it lulls you to sleep my lullaby
Close your eyes and open your heart that I may touch you.
There shall I dwell ever close, embracing you with every beat of your heart
Smile and feel the joy I share now with you. — Neil Leckman

Dear God, I am not like you. I am weak, my bones brittle, my heart filled with darkness and at times my demons crawl out from the walls you helped me build. I am just an extension of your brilliance but what would it be like to be a wave in the ocean of you. I am lost in your shine and I drown in your touch. So maybe I have ignored you lately but this is me reminding you that I, too, suffer and I, too, seek the beauty in humanity. So hear me, you are not alone. — Robert M. Drake

You are so beautiful," he whispered. He stepped closer, but before she could touch him he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"When I saw you tonight I think my heart stopped beating."
"And is it now?" she whispered.
He took her hand and laid it over his heart. She could feel it pounding beneath his skin, almost hear it reverberating through her own body. He was so strong, and so solid, and so wonderfully male.
"Do you know what I wanted to do?" he murmured.
She shook her head, too entranced by the low heat of his voice to make a noise of her own.
"I wanted to turn you around and push you right back through the door before anyone else saw you. I didn't want to share you." He traced her lips with his finger. "I still don't. — Julia Quinn

Our first kiss, the first touch of our heating lips, the yearning reciprocating from both sides, I was lost in everything. But I had a sudden feeling of eyes staring at our acts and unnecessary muttering. I could feel it even with my closed eyes. So far the sober girl in me resisted and my palms struggled to escape. David realized my condition and he left me be. I could see anger in his eyes for the crowd around but he stayed calm for my sake. My heart purred. 'I am lost now!'
He sat next to me and didn't bother to look at anyone around. Though, we knew many looked upon us and then they turned their faces away. He was horny. I could see his bulge behind his winter suit. I avoided looking and forced myself to gaze into his eyes instead. His pair was fixed on mine, reading mine. I gave a wide smile in an attempt to hide my lust although it was clearly written over my face. — Delicious David

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

This is your copy of Advanced Potion-Making, is it, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry, still breathing hard.
"You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry, with a touch more defiance.
"This is the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?"
"Yes," said Harry firmly.
"Then why," asked Snape, "does it have the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written inside the front cover?"
Harry's heart missed a beat. "That's my nickname," he said. — J.K. Rowling

He was a precocious and delicate little boy, quivering with the malaise of being unloved. When we played, his child's heart would come into its own, and the troubled world where his vague hungers went unfed and mothers and fathers were dim and far away
too far away to ever reach in and touch the sore place and make it heal
would disappear, along with the world where I was not sufficiently muscled or sufficiently gallant to earn my own regard. — Harold Brodkey

I just want to spend the rest of today and tonight with the only girl who makes my heart race."
And that was exactly what Trinity did. She calmed me and excited me all at once. I was a tattooed, buzzed haircut, cop who gave off a badass cocky feel, but inside, this woman made me feel like a lost boy seeking the security only she could give. It was still so unbelievable how one smile or a simple touch from her could make me feel whole.
"Yes," she whispered. "You should definitely spend the night with me."
She tossed me a mischievous smile and I couldn't help but feel relief that my fiery girl had returned. — C.A. Harms

I sing with all my heart and when I see the audience feel it too, I feel so touched I get goosebumps ... To my fans, I would like to say, 'I will work harder', rather than to say, 'I love you' because I believe that sincerity has its way of getting across to touch hearts. — Taeyang

And what is love, Angel? What is love! he yelled. Is it a pressure inside that makes me want to scream when you do this? he palmed his chest roughly, Is it my body in constant chaos when you're around me? Is it murder in cold blood when I even think of you being with anybody but me! he roared. Or maybe it's not being able to think or speak when your life is in danger, or wanting to spend every second - of every - fucking day with you, wanting to never leave your side. Is that love? Is it, Isadore? He drew closer and hit his fist repeatedly against his chest. Is it pain so hard and heavy that I can't fucking breathe unless I smell you, touch you, taste you? His body heaved as his bright green gaze seared her heart. Because if it is, Angel...he held his lips together and shook his head slowly, then I am....slain with an eternal and violent love for you. — Lucian Bane

It is this that ruins churches, that you do not seek to hear sermons that touch the heart, but sermons that will delight your ears with their intonation and the structure of their phrases, just as if you were listening to singers and lute-players. And we preachers humor your fancies, instead of trying to crush them. We act like a father who gives a sick child a cake or an ice, or something else that is merely nice to eat
just because he asks for it; and takes no pains to give him what is good for him; and then when the doctors blame him says, 'I could not bear to hear my child cry.' ... That is what we do when we elaborate beautiful sentences, fine combinations and harmonies, to please and not to profit, to be admired and not to instruct, to delight and not to touch you, to go away with your applause in our ears, and not to better your conduct. — John Chrysostom

I run and run and run. Past the hospital, through the garden, past a pond. And to the cold metal wall. I stop, gulping at the air, my heart racing in my ears. I reach up with one hand and touch the wall. My fingers curl into a fist, but it falls weakly to my side. And that's when I realize there is no where to run. 'But', my heart whispers, 'there is Elder. — Beth Revis

When it comes to giving thanks to God, there isn't a card, a sentiment, a picture, or a word that can adequately express the gratitude in my heart. What can I say to the One who not only saved my life but who also adopted me into His family? How can I possibly express my thankfulness for His riches? How can I express my gratitude for His friendship and His healing touch? How does one find the words to thank Him for His unconditional love, unmerited favour, and forgiveness? Dictionaries and thesauruses can't help me. All I can say is 'Thank you, God' with the hope that those humble words convey all that is in my heart. — Katherine J. Walden

He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.
He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow. — Rabindranath Tagore

You're my lifeline, he whispers and kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his. With his eyes wide and full of fear, he gently tugs my hand and places it on his chest over his heart- in the forbidden zone. His breathing quickens, his heart is beating a frantic pounding tattoo beneath my fingers. He doesn't take his eyes off mine; his jaw tense, his teeth clenched.
I gasp. Oh my Fifty! He's letting me touch him. And it's like all the air in my lungs has vaporized- gone. — E.L. James

You mustn't touch me." Very slowly, he lowered his hand. "You need to be touched, Caitlin MacBride. You need it very badly." She girded herself with denial. "Even if it were so, I would not need it from an Englishman." "Think again, my love. We're easy with one another despite our differences. Remember our first meeting - the shock of it, the knowing? We could be good for each other." "And when, pray, has an Englishman ever been good for Ireland?" A lazy grin spread over his face. "Even I know that, Caitlin. St. Patrick himself was English born, was he not?" "But he had the heart of Eireann." "So might I, Caitlin MacBride. So might I. — Susan Wiggs

Jus hold me a little longer, Jack. Tell me again that ya wanna be with me, fer real, cross yer heart 'n' let me know you ain't foolin', cause I dunno how or when it happen but somehow I come ta need ya like air, like blood. Touch me again like ya do with them gentle hands make me feel like somethin' precious. Say it again that ya love me, cause hearin' that was like openin' up some big bottomless well that ran dry years back and it cain't never be full enough now, I cain't never hear it enough, but once more, one more time and maybe I'll believe it a little more, and then a little more the next time, till someday I believe it fer true enough ta be able to say it back ta you like y'oughta hear it said cause God knows I love you more'n my own life, more'n anythin' in this world, but it cain't get outta me yet cause I still ain't the man I need ta be, the man who's gonna stand before you and declare. — Jane Seville

Instinctively, and against my better judgement, I pull her closer to me. She rests her head on my shoulder as if it is the most natural thing in all the worlds to do.
But it's a mistake. I become aware of her heart beating, her lungs expanding with every breath, her skin beneath my touch.
She moves, and her head slides to my chest. Shifting into sleep, she wraps her arm around my waist. Now I'm aware of my heart beating too, slowly, in sync with hers. I know I should push her away. But if my life depended on it, right now, that would be impossible. — Marianne Curley

I will cherish you always. Just as you are. The only regret will be that I had not found you and been able to protect you sooner. As for your disbelief in my ability to touch you and not feel disgusted? I crave your touch. Crave it like food to sate a millennia of starvation. I have been on this warship, surrounded by brothers in arms, and I have felt alone for every single one of those days. I vow to you that were you to permit me, I would never allow your feet to touch the deck. So great is my desire to hold you and feel your heart beating in time with mine." Andi — Isabel Wroth

I would have dropped everything to save you from any ounce of pain. If it is within my reach to do that now, know that I will never fucking let pain touch your heart, baby. It kills me to know how easy it was for the world to rip us apart. For years baby, I have spent years thinking you left me. That you chose to leave me. God ... He trails off and leans down to capture my lips. This kiss is like nothing we have shared since coming back to us. This kiss is full of the sadness that of what we have lost but with the promise of what we will have. His lips make love to mine. — Harper Sloan