Two Hands Together Quotes & Sayings

He weighs the volume in his hand; this one has been the center of the whirlwind. Then DRUMMOND notices the Bible on the JUDGE's bench. He picks up the Bible in his other hand; he looks from one volume to the other, balancing them thoughtfully, as if his hands were scales. He half-smiles, half-shrugs. Then DRUMMOND slaps the two books together and jams them in his brief case, side by side. Slowly, he climbs to the street level and crosses the empty square. — Jerome Lawrence

Your future is in God's hands, but He does not promise you marriage. Finding a spouse is a free will process, in which two people decide to sacrifice themselves for each other's benefit. Marriage is not some predetermined process that happens mysteriously. You will become very frustrated if you think that God mystically pairs people up. He does not unite people by overriding their minds and wills. God brings people together and encourages them to love one another but lets them decide their relational future. — Rob Eagar

I am sorry, I didn't mean to imply that either one of you would betray me. But dammit! I walk in to see Colton's clothes on the floor and the two of you snuggled up together." Aiden threw his hands in the air. Meryn thought about it. "Good point. Next time fold your clothes and put them on the dresser," she said, looking down at Colton. — Alanea Alder

We dance. Sweet, downcast, through-the-lashes-glances bely every beating she got at thirteen, every lash of the tongue from her dad at fourteen, every heroin high that let her out for awhile, every hour and day she had to be tough.

She is so natural and soft. Her shoulders are down, hips loose and swinging as we close together. I swear I'm growing chest hair just looking at her. I've been a boy in public before, but I've never seen her like this. That's it exactly; I haven't seen her at all, except in glimpses, in half-confessional role-play sex. And here she is - pressed tight against my chest, hips grinding against my crotch to the bass bump of the music. Her thigh along mine is electric heaven. Two drag queens cannot decide whether we are breeders or in drag. I stroke my mascara-made mustache at them - but none of it matters with hands in suede and the way she smiles. — Various

I have a boyfriend who knows how to settle me. He puts his hand on my chest and tells me boring stories. On one of our first nights together I woke up apologizing for my snoring and he pulled out two earplugs he had worn to bed so he could hear what I was saying. — Amy Poehler

Clarent and Excalibur. Together. Yesterday, he had held them in his hands and watched as the two swords had fused together to create a single stone sword. Even from across the room, Dee could feel the power radiating from the object in long slow waves. — Michael Scott

Light is the left hand of darkness and darkness the right hand of light. Two are one, life and death, lying together like lovers in kemmer, like hands joined together, like the end and the way. — Ursula K. Le Guin

We're glad you're here." Brastias stood beside her now, covered in blood, the majority of which she doubted belonged to him.
"Sorry I took so long, my friend." She tested the weight of her blades. As always they felt good in her hands. She was ready.
"Where is he, Brastias?"
"Up there." He pointed to a ridge where she could hear the war cries of men. But between her and her brother lay a battery of troops screaming for her blood.
One soldier ran for her, the blood lust having grabbed hold of his mind. She brought her two swords together, stepping aside as the man's head snapped off his body.
Annwyl smiled at Brastias. "Perhaps you should let me take this from here."
She wondered what he saw on her face when she looked at him, because he visibly blanched and backed away from her. "As always, Annwyl. They're all yours."
Annwyl smiled and charged in, killing all that stood in her way and did not wear the colors of her army. — G.A. Aiken

Symphonies can generate a tremendous amount of sounds, beauty, and emotion. That is part of their human feel and sweetness. Keyboards, on the other hand, give us access to millions of sounds. When I put the two together, the result is unique, and it's not only pleasing to the ear, but produces emotional responses that neither of the two can achieve on their own. — Yanni

Horse

What does the horse give you
That I cannot give you?

I watch you when you are alone,
When you ride into the field behind the dairy,
Your hands buried in the mare's
Dark mane.

Then I know what lies behind your silence:
Scorn, hatred of me, of marriage. Still,
You want me to touch you; you cry out
As brides cry, but when I look at you I see
There are no children in your body.
Then what is there?

Nothing, I think. Only haste
To die before I die.

In a dream, I watched you ride the horse
Over the dry fields and then
Dismount: you two walked together;
In the dark, you had no shadows.
But I felt them coming toward me
Since at night they go anywhere,
They are their own masters.

Look at me. You think I don't understand?
What is the animal
If not passage out of this life? — Louise Gluck

Maybe you are Saul's quarter-life crisis, but so what? Maybe he's yours. Or maybe you two are the luckiest people in the world and you've just found your fireworks-in-the-sky, holding-hands-until-you-die Forever Person. Guess what? There are drawbacks either way.
Maybe you break up and it sucks, but then you heal and move on and fall in love again. Or maybe this is it, the last person you'll ever have butterflies for, your last first kiss, but you get to grow up together, start your life together sooner. And you know what else? You don't have to be afraid to walk away either way... — Emily Henry

When she saw how they worked, not on their own but two by two, working their trunks together to tie a knot, she realized why they'd been so astonished by her hands, because of course she could tie knots on her own. At first she felt that this gave an advantage
she needed no one else
and then she realized how it cut her off from others. Perhaps all human beings were like that. — Philip Pullman

The entire path of the Vitraag Lords (the enlightened one) is one of humility (vinaya). The practice of humility (vinaya dharma) begins from Hindustan (India). There are endless practices of humility, starting from putting two hands together (in the gesture of Namaste) to prostrating. And ultimately when one attains absolute humility (param vinaya), he attains moksha (ultimate liberation). — Dada Bhagwan

There's a lot that can be said about holding hands. Such a simple gesture, and yet it yells things. This person is mine, it says. It anchors two people together and keeps them rooted. Hands tell complicated stories, and by holding hands, the stories are combined. Lifeline to lifeline. — R.K. Ryals

I sigh and touch my hands to my cheeks, pulling up the memory of Dax's frozen kiss. If Turner was the king of molten tongues, then Dax would be the lord of ice. I don't know how to weigh those two things together. — C.M. Stunich

Get over the feeling that the two words don't go together - women and power. The fact is, if we don't put the two together and don't understand how power changes complexion in the hands of women, then we're not going to make it. We have to own our personal power. — Jane Fonda

But in the dark now and no glow showing and no lights and only the wind and the steady pull of the sail he felt that perhaps he was already dead. He put his two hands together and felt the palms. They were not dead and he could bring the pain of life by simply opening and closing them. He leaned his back against the stern and knew he was not dead. His shoulders told him. — Ernest Hemingway,

I'd hoped at least one of my parents had seen Milo and me standing close together on the sidewalk, still holding hands, as I gazed dreamily up at him and told him that I was going to ship all the bigger transceiver parts to his house. He'd told me OK, but not to overdo it, and could I please get that dopey look off my face before he threw up? So it had been a very special moment, and I was sorry to think that it had been wasted on just the two of us. — R. J. Anderson

It is essential to love that it be, not a focus of two persons on each other, but of two persons on the same thing external to them both.

Although it has always been on offer, God's love cannot really be experienced unless or until one works side by side with him at transforming the world--unless or until one has confronted real affliction with him ("suffer[ed] with him,' Paul says in Romans 8:17) while tackling the task of remodeling the world (in what Paul calls, again in Romans 8:17, being "joint-heirs with Christ").

Love, in other words, has to be understood as more than a mere emotion; it is a way of being together in the world or, better, a way of working together to change the world.

What begins as a kind of instrumentality--I hope only to be a toll in God's hands--eventually becomes a very real partnership, ideally bound by covenant. — Joseph M. Spencer

Life does have its twists and turns, and that certainly is true. However, one can predict the future with some degree of accuracy based on one's own knowledge of past events. And rare events do occur , but it is their lack of repetition that makes them rare.
I cannot alter the past, but the future is very much in my hands
I find that memories, especially from one's childhood, very often do not live up to the realities
Does anyone truly understand females? the more I am in their company the less i know. Their behavior is the opposite of everything in the natural order and flies in the face of logic.
Oh, I can see you are enjoying yourself. You have my heart, and now you will toy with it
She did believe that two souls could come together, so that the one would know if something had happened to the other despite distance or war.
The only way to get through life's rough spots is to laugh whenever possible — Mary Lydon Simonsen

He mentioned a dear friend Morrie had, Maurie Stein, who had first sent Morrie's aphorisms to the Boston Globe. They had been together at Brandeis since the early sixties. Now Stein was going deaf. Koppel imagined the two men together one day, one unable to speak, the other unable to hear. What would that be like?
"We will hold hands," Morrie said. "And there'll be a lot of love passing between us. Ted, we've had thirty-five years of friendship. You don't need speech or hearing to feel that. — Mitch Albom

It's part of us," she said jerkily. "How could I not want part of us? It's your baby.I'm carrying your baby and I love it so much already it terrifies me."
"Oh,Diana." He touched her then, gently, his hands on her face. "You've let two weeks go by when we could have been terrified together. — Nora Roberts

And something happened in Katie's heart, and she realized it wasn't just two people being joined together, not even two families. She felt as if she were joining hands with everyone who'd done this before her, just as she'd done after giving birth to Jacob, a feeling that she finally belonged, that she was part of the whole enterprise, a brick in that great arch which rose out of the dark behind you and swung over your head and curved into the future, and she was helping to keep it strong and solid, and helping to protect everyone beneath it. — Mark Haddon

There is great power in prayer. I strongly encourage personal and family prayer, which are important in building strong families. I'm wondering if many of you parents, you couples, have lost that essential moment of kneeling together at the end of the day, just the two of you, holding hands and saying your prayers. If that has slipped away from your daily routine, may I suggest you put it back-beginning tonight! — M. Russell Ballard

Being a troll, he loved the earth. A troll's love for the earth is a peculiar thing - it is something like the way you and I love our parents and our dogs and our favorite novels and the stuffed rabbits we have had since we were in our cradles and the very best thing we have ever done with our own two hands, all smashed up together in a rough, enormous ball of feeling the size of a planet. — Catherynne M Valente

Last night, in the evening darkness of the tent, he had pulled this gift from his packs and looked down at it, feeling its weight in his hands. Once or twice before, he had thought about this moment. In his most private thoughts, he'd imagined it happening with the two of them alone together. — C.S. Pacat

Yepsen (n.) The amount that can be held in two hands cupped together; also, the two cupped hands themselves. A measurement that has never really caught on like the teaspoon, the yepsen also falls firmly within the category of things for which you never thought there was a word - at least, not until some interfering busybody like me came along and told you what it was. Yesterneve — Ammon Shea

Tactus claps his hands together in laughter and draws Sevro in for an obnoxious hug. They are two very peculiar people. But I suppose snuggling in horse corpses gives a bond - makes twins of a morbid sort. — Pierce Brown

Film is such an extraordinary rich medium which can handle so many different modes of operation, combining together in the same place all these extraordinary disciplines which may be executed in their own right - music, writing, picture making of all kinds, and I often feel that some filmmakers make films with one eye closed and two hands tied behind their backs. — Peter Greenaway

What I wouldn't give to have known my father with my mother in love-together, you know, just the two of them, in the kitchen laughing, making a sandwich, or holding hands on the street, seeing my father open a car door for my other. The absence of those things are what makes you an orphan-it's the ordinary everyday expressions of love you miss. — Adriana Trigiani

Miss Morstan and I stood together, and her hand was in mine. A wondrous subtle thing is love, for here were we two, who had never seen each other until that day, between whom no word or even look of affection had ever passed, and yet now in an hour of trouble our hands instinctively sought for each other. I have marveled at it since, but at the time it seemed the most natural thing that I would go out to her so, and, as she has often told me, there was in her also the instinct to turn to me for comfort and protection. So we stood hand in hand like two children, and there was peace in our hearts for all the dark things that surrounded us. — Arthur Conan Doyle

Kazuhiko could have taken his gun and aimed it at the person behind them. But Sakura wouldn't want that. What she wanted was to leave this world quietly before they got sucked into this horrible massacre. Nothing was more important to him than her. There was no room for compromise. If this were what her trembling soul wanted, then he would follow her. Had he been more eloquent he might have described his feelings as something like, "I'm going to die for her honor."
Their two bodies danced in the air beyond the cliff, their hands still clasped together, the black sea under them. — Koushun Takami

Making love. I've cringed every time Hester used those words. So off and awkward and unrelated to what actually goes on between two bodies. You make breakfast, you make time, you make the team. Love? Not so much. But I get it now. Like making fire. Not rubbing two sticks together to pull something out of thin air. More like finally being able, knowing enough, to warm your hands at something you built, stick by stick. — Huntley Fitzpatrick

I was travelling alone on the empty road,
I saw a gravid woman who standing alongside the road and I crossed off,
I do not know that she was going to give birth to the "Fortune Seed", later !
I perceived that the "Fortune Seed" born today so i return back and found the seed on the road,
I decided to carry the "Fortune seed" forever, now the empty road filled with two hands together with the sign of true love — Sam Nelson

When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: the people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous and surly. They are like this because they can't tell good from evil. But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own - not of the same blood and birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness. Nor can I feel angry at my relative, or hate him. We were born to work together like feet, hands and eyes, like the two rows of teeth, upper and lower. To obstruct each other is unnatural. To feel anger at someone, to turn your back on him: these are unnatural. — Marcus Aurelius

There is an old saying that goes 'Start by plucking a hair, end by killing a man'. It is also said, 'Two hands must meet to make a sound'. The atrocities that happened here weren't carried out by strangers - it was us, the people who'd once lived together harmoniously in the same village."
"They say it was the superstitious freaks who did it."
"No, it was Satan who did it."
"Come now, what sort of a ghost is that?"
Ryu Yosop replied, "It is the black thing that lives in the heart of every man. — Hwang Sok-yong

Prit?" she asked. "The boy you bullied in school?"

Emery scratched the back of his head. "'Bullied' sounds so juvenile . . ."

"But it's him, isn't it?" Ceony pushed. "Pritwin Bailey? He became a Folder after all?"

Emery nodded. "We graduated from Praff together, actually. But yes, he's the same."

Ceony relaxed somewhat. "So you two are on good terms, then?"

The paper magician barked a laugh. "Oh, heavens no. We haven't spoken to each other since Praff, save for this telegram. He quite loathes me, actually."

Ceony's eyes bugged. "And you're sending me to test with him?"

Emery smiled. "Of course, in a few days. What better way to prove you had no bias than to place your career aspirations in the hands of Pritwin Bailey?"

Ceony stared at him a long moment. "I've been shot to hell, haven't I?"

"Language, love. — Charlie N. Holmberg

Nanna: Inside, there was a long rigmarole that went on and on; it began with my hair, which had been cut off in the church, and said that he had gathered it together and made a neckband of it for himself; and my forehead was clearer than a cloudless sky. He compared my eyebrows to the black wood which is used to make combs, and he said that my cheeks were so white that they filled milk and cream with envy. He declared my teeth were like a row of pearls, and my lips like pomegranate blossoms; he composed a great preamble on my hands - he even praised my fingernails; and he said that my voice was like the canticle 'Gloria in eccelsis'; and when he came to my breasts, he waxed positively ecstatic - they displayed two apples as white and shining as the snow in sunlight. Finally he allowed himself to slip down to the fountain, saying that he had drunk from it all unworthily, and that it distilled nectar and manna, and that the curls of hair round it were made of silk. — Pietro Aretino

Eat it," I ordered, holding it with two hands now, making it dance in the air. "It's begging you. 'Eat me'."
He arched a brow.
"Perv," I muttered.
Aiden pressed his lips together, but when he glanced at me and my dancing bun, he burst into laughter. "All right, give me the bun. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

For Love, to which we may now return, has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together that you cannot separate them. In this case, Orlando's love began her flight towards him with her white face turned, and her smooth and lovely body outwards. Nearer and nearer she came wafting before her airs of pure delight. All of a sudden (at the sight of the Archduchess presumably) she wheeled about, turned the other way round; showed herself black, hairy, brutish; and it was Lust the vulture, not Love, the Bird of Paradise that flopped, foully and disgustingly, upon his shoulders. Hence he ran; hence he fetched the footman. — Virginia Woolf

Once I came across two ideographs for the word "love." The first contained the root words "heart" and "hand" and "action"-love as hands and heart in action together. The other ideograph, for "passionate love," was formed of "heart," "to tell," and "a long thread. — Joy Kogawa

I start paying attention to all my movements. How one arm complements the other. And I start thinking about everything I do with two hands. Driving. Golfing. Keyboarding. Even writing really takes two hands. The pen's held in one; the paper's anchored with the other. My mind wanders all over everyday things. Opening a water bottle. Getting dressed. Making a sandwich. Washing dishes. I imagine life with only one hand and realize that it would be hard. In a different way, but still hard ... I rub my hands together, spreading out the soap. And as I massage both sides of my head, I'm thankful for my hands. Thankful to have both of them. — Wendelin Van Draanen

I hear footsteps and Four's hands wrap around my wrists. I let him pry my hands from my eyes. He encloses one of my hands perfectly between two of his. The warmth of his skin overwhelms the ache in my fingers from holding the bars. "You all right?" he asks, pressing our hands together.
"Yeah."
He starts to laugh. — Veronica Roth

People can tolerate two homosexuals they see leaving together, but the next day they're smiling, holding hands, tenderly embracing one another, then they cannot be forgiven. It is not the departure for pleasure that is unacceptable, it is waking up happy. — Michel Foucault

To see something marvellous with your own eyes - that's wonderful enough. But when two of you see it, two of you together, holding hands, holding each other close, knowing that you'll both have that memory for the rest of your lives, but that each of you will only ever hold an incomplete half of it, and that it won't ever really exist as a whole until you're together, talking or thinking about that moment ... that's worth more than one plus one. It's worth four, or eight, or some number so large we can't even imagine it. — Alastair Reynolds

He cupped her face in his hands, made her meet his gaze. Solemnly, he said, I heard you say that when two people love each other, they fight through everything together. Every doubt, every challenge, every pain. Fight with me, Mina. Please. You are the only one for me, for as long as I live. And if you love me, fight with me. — Meljean Brook

Sonnet LXXXI
And now you're mine. Rest with your dream in my dream.
Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping ember.
No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,
we will go together, over the waters of time.
No one else will travel through the shadows with me,
only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.
Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away;
your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move
after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all. — Pablo Neruda

But what a painful difference between the two! The father bends over his returning son. The elder son stands stiffly erect, a posture accentuated by the long staff reaching from his hand to the floor. The father's mantle is wide and welcoming; the son's hangs flat over his body. The father's hands are spread out and touch the homecomer in a gesture of blessing; the son's are clasped together and held close to his chest. There is light on both faces, but the light from the father's face flows through his whole body - especially his hands - and engulfs the younger son in a great halo of luminous warmth; whereas the light on the face of the elder son is cold and constricted. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

My father always used to tell one of his dreams, because it somehow seemed of a piece with what was to follow. He believed that it was a consequence of the thing's presence in the next room. My father dreamed of blood.
It was the vividness of the dreams that was impressive, their minute detail and horrible reality. The blood came through the keyhole of a locked door which communicated with the next room. I suppose the two rooms had originally been designed en suite. It ran down the door panel with a viscous ripple, like the artificial one created in the conduit of Trumpingdon Street. But it was heavy, and smelled. The slow welling of it sopped the carpet and reached the bed. It was warm and sticky. My father woke up with the impression that it was all over his hands. He was rubbing his first two fingers together, trying to rid them of the greasy adhesion where the fingers joined." ("The Troll") — T.H. White

I think I'm beginning to understand
how hearts fit together.
Not like diseased carnations that lean against their crutches.
Not like vines that twine tight, throttling their hosts.
But like two trees:
two systems of deep, untangled roots,
two patterns of flowering branches,
whose leaves drink their own sunlight
and breathe their own air.
Two trees with something slung between them,
a hammock or a tapestry or a swing,
some third, beautiful thing
that neither would die without.
Hearts fit together like hands.
Not by necessity.
By choice. — Riley Redgate

It was still, at the root, the same dance: the same two bodies, connecting, gliding together, two aching souls reaching for each other and finding more than could be told. And then, in the fourth song, or maybe it was the fifth, they switched roles, without speaking, their bodies deciding, hands moving from waist to shoulder or shoulder to waist and pouring the dance in the opposite direction, which was, they discovered, not an opposite at all but a continuation of the very same dance, the same essential language of the body, of two bodies wishing to be one, forming a kinetic poem out of longing. — Carolina De Robertis

He had no desire to talk, or move. So he sat, with her still straddling his lap, in no hurry to leave, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, which he tightened around her, slipping his hands under the bottom of her sweater to warm them. They fit together like two distinct halves purposely manufactured to become one seamless whole, a feeling he wouldn't soon forget. — Wendy S. Marcus

Life was like a jigsaw, but if you tried to fit the pieces together yourself, you generally got them wrong. Pierre had money; she needed money. Pierre was lovable and loved her; she would marry him. She had thought that was the pattern the pieces made. But it had been like trying to force two pieces together that didn't fit, and then, suddenly, the jigsaw had been done, in quite a different way, by other hands. — Monica Dickens

Every noon as the clock hands arrive at twelve,
I want to tie the two arms together,
And walk out of the bank carrying time in bags. — Robert Bly

Pride and folly, they go together like two tightly grasping hands. — Patrick Rothfuss

I have tried to use memory and invention together, like two hands engaged in the same muddy work of digging up the past. — Emma Donoghue

No human relation gives one possession in another - every two souls are absolutely different. In friendship or in love, the two side by side raise hands together to find what one cannot reach alone. — Kahlil Gibran

In Buddhism, both learning and practice are extremely important, and they must go hand in hand. Without knowledge, just to rely on faith, faith, and more faith is good but not sufficient. So the intellectual part must definitely be present. At the same time, strictly intellectual development without faith and practice, is also of no use. It is necessary to combine knowledge born from study with sincere practice in our daily lives. These two must go together. — Dalai Lama

Buonaparte is certainly writing, or rather dictating, his memoirs. He walks backwards and forwards with his hands behind him, and dictates so fast that two or three of his suite are obliged to be in attendance, that the one may take down one-half of a sentence, and another the rest; they then literally compare notes, and put the disjointed legs and wings and heads of periods together. This is writing a book as he fought a battle. — Mary Russell Mitford

Do you know anything about hearts, Jona? The Senta know hearts. Hearts are not one organ. Inside a mother's womb, two pulsing bags of blood seek their eternal mate."
Her hand reached out to his. She opened his palm, and traced a finger down his lifeline, then his loveline. She lifted it up to her own face. She placed it on her cheek.
"Lungs are fine apart," she said, "Hands do not need another but to clap. Brains gnarl like roots in the nothing of soul, and guts spin in knots around the nothing of hunger. But hearts are made by two complete parts merging together. Once the two pieces sense each other in the blood flow, they cross every bloody cliff inside of us. The arteries bind the halves close. The veins make love to each other in the life pulse that makes all life from love entwined. — J.M. McDermott

If ... capital is divided between two different grocers, their competition will tend to make both of them sell cheaper, than if it were in the hands of one only; and if it were divided among twenty, their competition would be just so much the greater, and the chance of their combining together, in order to raise the price, just so much the less. Their competition
might perhaps ruin some of themselves; but to take care of this is the business of the parties concerned, and it may safely be trusted to their discretion. It can never hurt either the consumer, or the producer; on the contrary, it must tend to make the retailers both sell cheaper and buy dearer, than if the whole trade was monopolized by one or two persons. — Adam Smith

They held hands and knew that only the coffin would lie in the earth; the bubbly laughter and the press of fingers in the palm would stay aboveground forever. At first, as they stood there, their hands were clenched together. They relaxed slowly until during the walk back home their fingers were laced in as gentle a clasp as that of any two young girlfriends trotting up the road on a summer day wondering what happened to butterflies in the winter. — Toni Morrison

Each practitioner thinks there's one magic way to get a machine to be smart, and so they're all wasting their time in a sense. On the other hand, each of them is improving some particular method, so maybe someday in the near future, or maybe it's two generations away, someone else will come around and say, "Let's put all these together," and then it will be smart. — Marvin Minsky

I look at you
And I want to build things
Four walls
A roof
A room with a view

I look at you
And I want to build things
A stack of logs
A roaring fire
A starlit night with you

I look at you
And I want to build things
Hike a secret trail
where the world cannot find us
A bench built for two

Picture this - lightning and thunder
Picture this- my telephone number
Picture this- discovery and wonder
Picture this- the moon as we slumber

I look at you
And I want to build things
I just need my hands
Your smile
And for you to want this too — Jose N. Harris

At least, you two have decent manners," says Effie as we're finishing the main course. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."
... My mother taught Prim and me to eat properly, so yes, I can handle a fork and knife. But I hate Effie Trinket's comment so much I make a point of eating the rest of my meal with my fingers. Then I wipe my hands on the tablecloth. This makes her purse her lips tightly together. — Suzanne Collins

Finally when he climbed below deck after dark, wondering where his dinner was, perhaps with a storm come up and rough seas and blinding rains, I'd sulk and lure him into the warm and steamy darkness and from the hairs of his warm body I'd breed a myriad smiling, sparkle-eyed one-year-olds, my broods, my flocks. In the churning seas, below the waves, together inside our hammock woven in coarse sailcloth by Unguentine's deft hands, a spherical webbed sack which hung and swivelled between the two walls of our bedroom, we would spin round and round with lapping tongues and the soft suction of lips, whirling, our amorous centrifuge, all night long, zipped inside against the elements. Now, years and years later, those nights, the thought and touch of them is enough to make me throw myself down on the ground and roll in the dust like a hen nibbled by mites, generating clouds, stars and all the rest. — Stanley Crawford

Then one day Chip showed up with the back of his pickup truck just loaded with old metal letters he'd found at a flea market--big, oddly shaped letters taken from various old signs. They were mismatched and rusty and dented--and I loved them. We tacked them up on the front of the shop, spelling out the name that would come to mean so much: Magnolia. The letters were uneven and looked a little handmade and ragged, but it seemed to work. I loved this sign because Chip designed it and made it with his own two hands. It came together in such an imperfectly perfect way, and I hoped people would get it.

To this day that sign is one of my proudest accomplishments. I'm no Joanna Gaines, but I certainly see things differently and love design in my own unique way. That first sign really reflected that for me. I would glow when I would hear a customer come in the shop and say, "I saw the sign and just had to stop in. — Joanna Gaines

Here," he growled and I blinked.
"Deacon, I'm not a big fan of - "
"Future," he cut me off. "Assert your feminism when I'm not three seconds away from fuckin' you on your porch. I come to you, that's gonna happen. You come to me, maybe it won't."
Maybe?
I didn't ask that.
I asked , "So if you get your way and I come to you, you can miraculously control your base instincts?"
His reply?
"One."
My body jerked and my brows shot together as the meaning of that word hit me.
"Are you counting down - ?"
"Two."
I planted my hands on my hips.
"You are!" I cried angrily. "You're counting - "
"Fuck it," he muttered, took two long strides, and I was in his arms. — Kristen Ashley

With arms outstretched on the cross. Jesus took holy God in one hand and sinful man with the other and brought the two together. — Steven J. Lawson

table sat an antique ormolu clock, its hands frozen on the twelve and the ten, 11:50. The magic hour. The time when Zee's ghosts appeared in the greenhouse wall. Bits and pieces of two scenarios were coming back to her, fitting together like a child's jigsaw puzzle. She had, indeed, come to this place - Mathew Brady's New York studio - a short time earlier to have her portrait made — Becky Lee Weyrich

The two of them stood there with their necks forward at almost the same angle and their shoulders curved in almost exactly the same way and their hands trembling identically in their pockets. Mr. Head looked like an ancient child and Nelson like a miniature old man. They stood gazing at the artificial Negro as if they were faced with some great mystery, some monument to another's victory that brought them together in their common defeat. They could both feel it dissolving their differences like an action of mercy. — Flannery O'Connor

Miss Brobity's Being, young man, was deeply imbued with homage to Mind. She revered Mind, when launched, or, as I say, precipitated, on an extensive knowledge of the world. When I made my proposal, she did me the honour to be so overshadowed with a species of Awe, as to be able to articulate only the two words, "O Thou!" meaning myself. Her limpid blue eyes were fixed upon me, her semi-transparent hands were clasped together, pallor overspread her aquiline features, and, though encouraged to proceed, she never did proceed a word further. I disposed of the parallel establishment by private contract, and we became as nearly one as could be expected under the circumstances. But she never could, and she never did, find a phrase satisfactory to her perhaps-too-favourable estimate of my intellect. To the very last (feeble action of liver), she addressed me in the same unfinished terms. — Charles Dickens

This is us. Our pose. The smush. It's even how we are in the ultrasound photo they took of us inside Mom and how I had us in the picture Fry ripped up yesterday. Unlike most everyone else on earth, from the very first cells of us, we were together, we came here together. This is why no one hardly notices that Jude does most of the talking for both of us, why we can only play piano with all four of our hands on the keyboard and not at all alone, why we can never do Rochambeau because not once in thirteen years have we chosen differently. It's always: two rocks, two papers, two scissors. When I don't draw us like this, I draw us as half-people. — Jandy Nelson

You see her as this broken little thing that needs you to take care of her. She doesn't need that. She might have been broken at one time, but she's not fucking broken now. She's put it all back together. She's made a life for herself, and you're trying to change it. It's kind of like she's built this fortress around herself, brick by fucking brick, and you might think a fortress is too much, but it's not. Do you know why?"
I can only sit and stare at him.
"Do you want to know why?" he asks.
I nod. My heart is in my fucking throat.
"Because she fucking lives there, Paul. It's home for her. It's safe and it's secure and it's hers. And she built it with her own two hands. So for you to swoop in and not only try to move her out of her fortress but also to tear it down, you're fucking up everything she's worked for. — Tammy Falkner

In the season of white wild roses We two went hand in hand: But now in the ruddy autumn Together already we stand. — Francis Turner Palgrave

For love ... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together — Virginia Woolf

The world of the grotesque is the darkness within us. Well before Freud and Jung shined a light on the workings of the subconscious, this correlation between darkness and our subconscious, these two forms of darkness, was obvious to people. It wasn't a metaphor, even. If you trace it back further, it wasn't even a correlation. Until Edison invented the electric light, most of the world was totally covered in darkness. The physical darkness outside and the inner darkness of the soul were mixed together, with no boundary separating the two. They were directly linked. Like this." Oshima brings his two hands together tightly. "But today things are different. The darkness in the outside world has vanished, but the darkness in our hearts remains, virtually unchanged. Just like an iceberg, what we label the ego or consciousness is, for the most part, sunk in darkness. And that estrangement sometimes creates a deep contradiction or confusion within us. — Haruki Murakami

Do you think when two representatives holding diametrically opposing views get together and shake hands, the contradictions between our systems will simply melt away? What kind of a daydream is that? — Nikita Khrushchev

Liz?"
"Hmmm?"
"Why do you care about me?"
The question seems to startle me. It's uncharacteristic for Richie, who is usually so cool and self-assured. I open my eyes. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Because I don't understand. We're so different."
I reach around the side of his face. Once again, I wipe fresh beads of sweat from his forehead. This time, I don't even bother wiping my hands on my pants. I lace my fingers into his again, and the two of us lie together, his damp clamminess seeping onto my made up face and my pretty clothes. Obviously, I couldn't care less.
"But we fit," I whisper. "Like this." And I tighten my grip around him.
"Mmm." He smiles, his eyes still closed.
"You're right. We do."
"Richie ... I'm lying. I don't like you."
"You don't?" His voice cracks.
"No." I bring my lips close to his ear. "I love you Richie Wilson. — Jessica Warman

He broke off as two hands rose up out of the smoke. Alec grabbed one and Simon the other, and together they hauled Samuel like a limp sack of potatoes out of the cell and deposited him on the lawn. A moment later Simon and Clary were grabbing Jace's hands and pulling him out, though he was considerably less limp and swore when they accidentally banged his head on the ledge. He shook them off, crawling the rest of the way onto the grass himself and then collapsing onto his back. — Cassandra Clare

Rieker threaded her hair behind her ears with his other hands, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "We're different Tiki," he said softly. "We're caught between two worlds and honestly, I don't know which one we belong in. But I do know this - I don't want to be either place without you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I believe we found each other because we're meant to be together. — Kiki Hamilton

He was smiling again, his face alight, and Ivy knew her own expression was a mirror to his. Ivoleyn, he said, softly now, as if testing the word. And she replied, Dashton. Then their hands parted, but only so they might come closer, like two trees twining together to stand as one in a forest of green. — Galen Beckett

I decided to walk alongside Beth and the annoying little ass. It seemed right that it wouldn't be her walking toward me or me waiting for her, but us traveling on the journey together. Because sometimes, that's how love is. It isn't a man chasing a woman, it isn't a man storming the castle, and it isn't the girl waiting for love to happen. It's two people making a commitment. It's two people realizing that they hold the keys to their own happiness in their own damn hands. The problem? Most people forget that they have the power to live the fairytale. I'd forgotten I had the power, and in the end, I'd been willing to walk away from my future. — Rachel Van Dyken

In normal families, unbroken families, the mother and the father are like two hands cupped together, and held by those hands are the children. In my family, the hands have pulled apart and the children have been dropped. If one parent isn't looking after you, they just assume the other one is. You find out you don't really belong anywhere. — Kirsty Eagar

As long as we live, our self-absorption and our insecurity will walk together, holding hands and swinging them back and forth like two little girls on their way to a pretend playground they can never find. Human nature dictates that most often we will be as insecure as we are self-absorbed. The best possible way to keep from getting sucked into the superficial narcissistic mentality that money, possessions, and sensuality can satisfy and secure us is to deliberately give ourselves to something much greater ... [Christ] showed us that giving, rather than getting, is the means to receiving ... to find yourself, your true self, you must lose yourself in something larger. — Beth Moore

I think, hands down, the number one person I would love to have in a video is Beyonce. I think the perfect video for me - I could die happy and I could never make a YouTube video again - would be to do a video called 'Bey-Oz-ce' and mix 'The Wizard of Oz' and Beyonce together because those are my two favorite things in the world. — Todrick Hall