Washed My Hands Quotes & Sayings

In the middle of the cemetery is a grassy plane, strangely vacant. There are no granite tombs or crumbling concrete, just a sun-washed treeless patch of green known as "No Man's Land." Here 1,500 unidentified bodies are buried. At one time, their skin burned with yellow fever; now they lie in a cool, dark place where long ago their arms and legs, hands and feet, were intertwined for eternity. — Molly Caldwell Crosby

They stood there for a while, not saying anything. Then Eli said: 'Do you want to come in?'
Oskar didn't reply. Eli pulled on her T-shirt, lifted her hands, let them fall.
'I'm never going to hurt you.'
'I know that.'
'What are you thinking about?'
'That T-shirt. Is it from the trash room?'
' ... yes.'
'Have you washed it?'
Eli didn't answer.
'You're a little gross, you know that?'
'I can change, if you like.'
'Good. Do that. — John Ajvide Lindqvist

They are hypocrites, they think the Church is a cage to keep God in, so he will stay locked up there and not go wandering about the earth during the week, poking his nose into their business, and looking in the depths and darkness and doubleness of their hearts, and their lack of true charity; and they believed they need only be bothered about him on Sundays when they have their best clothes on and their faces straight, and their hands washed and their gloves on, and their stories all prepared. — Margaret Atwood

And Pilate seeing that he prevailed nothing, but that rather a tumult was made; taking water washed his hands before the people, saying: I am innocent of the blood of this just man; look you to it. — Anonymous

You are weak, Savannah. I can feel it when our minds merge."
"Stay out of my mind. You certainly weren't invited." Her hands went to her hips. "And just for the record, your mind needs to be washed out with soap! Half the things you think we're going to do are never going to happen. I could never look at you again."
He laughed. Aloud.An actual, real laugh. It welled up unexpectedly and emerged low and husky, with genuine amusement. Gregori nearly leapt the distance between them and dragged her into his arms, grateful beyond imagining.
She flung a pillow at his head. "Go ahead and laugh, you arrogant jerk." She wished she had a two-by-four handy. — Christine Feehan

Florence Nightingale was an amazing figure. She created the American Red Cross. She saw the suffering from bad health conditions on the battlefield and in the military hospitals, and she fought like crazy to change the conditions; to make sure that the doctors washed their hands and practiced sanitary measures. She put herself at great risks. — Sharon Lawrence

Christians don't simply learn or study or use Scripture; we assimilate it, take it into our lives in such a way that it gets metabolized into acts of love, cups of cold water, missions into all the world, healing and evangelism and justice in Jesus' name, hands raised in adoration of the Father, feet washed in company with the Son. — Eugene H. Peterson

fucking stupid to park there to begin with." "Usually the bigger worry is regular people and the media thinking they can poke around. But no marked car? Okay. There goes your deterrent. Have it your way. You got any idea why the entrance lights weren't on last night?" Marino said. "I only know that they weren't. It's in my report." "They're on now." Gusts of wind hit them like invisible waves of a stormy surf, and Marino felt as if he was about to be washed off the roof. His hands were stiff, and he pulled his sleeves over them. "Then my guess would be the killer turned them off last night," Morales said. "Kind of a strange thing to do once he's already inside the building." "Maybe he turned them off when he was leaving. So nobody would see him, in case someone was walking by, driving by." "Then you're probably not talking about Oscar doing it. Since he never left. — Patricia Cornwell

Men. They were nothing but trouble anyway. I mean, really, look where the men in my life had gotten me. Handcuffed, fingerprinted, jailed ... then handcuffed again! That's it, I washed my hands of the whole lot of them. In fact, I was actually looking forward to flying home, sitting in my cozy studio and spending the evening alone with Joanie, Chachi, and the Keebler elves. Now those were my kind of men. — Gemma Halliday

A lot of my close friends had tolerantly washed their hands of the whole idea of me writing a book. They had said to themselves, "I don't know what he's doing." — Chad Harbach

We all leave our mother's womb with blood not only on our hands, but all over us. Some of us are lucky enough to be washed clean. Pristine. Some of us, inauspiciously, are left stained. Permanently. — S. Ann Cole

Jesus must have had man hands. He was a carpenter, the Bible tells us. I know a few carpenters, and they have great hands, all muscled and worn, with nicks and callused pads from working wood together with hardware and sheer willpower. In my mind, Jesus isn't a slight man with fair hair and eyes who looks as if a strong breeze could knock him down, as he is sometimes depicted in art and film. I see him as sturdy, with a thick frame, powerful legs, and muscular arms. He has a shock of curly black hair and an untrimmed beard, his face tanned and lined from working in the sun. And his hands - hands that pounded nails, sawed lumber, drew in the dirt, and held the children he beckoned to him. Hands that washed his disciples' feet, broke bread for them, and poured their wine. Hands that hauled a heavy cross through the streets of Jerusalem and were later nailed to it. Those were some man hands. — Cathleen Falsani

Skin. Blue sparks writhed across his hands like tiny snakes. Rain washed his face. "This is the best," he shouted, over the roar of the storm. As if it understood him, the bird began to rise higher, every wing-beat a clap of thunder, and it swooped and dove and tumbled through the dark clouds. "In my dream, I was hunting you," said Shadow, his words ripped away by the wind. "In my dream. I had to bring back a feather." Yes. The word was a static crackle in the radio of his mind. They — Neil Gaiman

His hands tightened on her shoulders as the truth washed over him. My God, she really had told him yes.
He opened his mouth to ask if she was certain then didn't. If he did, she might change her mind, and he had no intention of giving her that opportunity. Underneath his hands, her shoulders quivered. She raised her gaze to him again, and his heart plunged into the depths. She had her lower lip trapped between her teeth, and her eyes were tormented pools of blue green. His heart broke just looking at her.
She was not in love with him. He knew that. Her acceptance of him had nothing to do with the sort of desperate longing he had for her. Not that he hadn't known that the first time he proposed to her, but to have her say yes out of despair added an edge of pain to his euphoria. He knew she wasn't indifferent to him, after all, and for the moment, that sufficed to keep the hurt at arm's
length. — Carolyn Jewel

Living in filth was regarded by great numbers of holy men, who set an example to the Church and to society, as an evidence of sanctity. St. Jerome and the Breviary of the Roman Church dwell with unction on the fact that St. Hilarion lived his whole life long in utter physical uncleanliness; St. Athanasius glorifies St. Anthony because he had never washed his feet; St. Abraham's most striking evidence of holiness was that for fifty years he washed neither his hands nor his feet; St. Sylvia never washed any part of her body save her fingers; St. Euphraxia belonged to a convent in which the nuns religiously abstained from bathing. St. Mary of Egypt was emninent for filthiness; St. Simon Stylites was in this respect unspeakable - the least that can be said is, that he lived in ordure and stench intolerable to his visitors. — Andrew Dickson White

A question repeated in the back of Theresa's mind as she washed the purple stains from her hands. How did they finally break you? — Blake Crouch

No, he had to remember she was an assassin with the blessing of a pretty face and sharp wits. She washed her hands with blood, and was just as likely to slit his throat as offer him a kind word. — Sarah J. Maas

Age was respected among his people, but achievement was revered. As the elders said, if a child washed his hands he could eat with kings. — Chinua Achebe

Alone I walked on the ocean strand, A pearly shell was in my hand; I stooped, and wrote upon the sand My name, the year, the day. As onward from the sport I passed, One lingering look behind I cast, A wave came rolling high and fast, And washed my lines away. — Hannah Flagg Gould

Casey rested his forehead on his hands and began to recite his list of get-rid-of-my-erection-now things. "Wrinkly old testicles with masses of gray hair. Applying hemorrhoid cream. Rotten eggs broken in the house. Tennis shoes that haven't been washed for years. Moldy cabbage. Three-day-old roadkill. Toilets that don't flush properly. Accidentally using sports rub for lubricant. — Renae Kaye

With the supplies gathered, he went over to the stainless-steel sink and pressed the foot pedal to get the water running. While he washed his hands, he said quietly, "If I could, I would."
"Excuse me?"
Qhuinn pumped some suds into his palms and scrubbed all the way up his forearms. Which was overkill, but if Blay wanted him superclean, then that was what he was going to be. "If I could love a guy like that, it would be you. — J.R. Ward

She heard the zip of his pants, and expected him to step away from her, leave her alone in the bathroom to pull herself together. Instead, his hands were very gentle as he moved her out of the way, running water into the tiny sink.
And then his hands were between her legs, and he was washing her, and she was too shocked to do anything more than let him. He tossed the paper towels, then took her discarded clothes from the floor and put them on her, waiting patiently as she lifted one foot, then the other. She was trembling, weak, totally compliant, and when he finished he wet another paper towel and washed her face with it, gently, like a lover. — Anne Stuart

But just as water carried Moses to his destiny down the Nile, so water carried another baby from a woman's body into an expectant world. Wrapped now in flesh, the God who once hovered over the waters was plunged beneath them at the hands of a wild-eyed wilderness preacher. When God emerged, he spoke of living water that forever satisfies and of being born again. He went fishing and washed his friends' feet. He touched the ceremonially unclean. He spit in the dirt, cast demons into the ocean, and strolled across an angry sea. He got thirsty and he wept. — Rachel Held Evans

They took him last night, and tried him," the man continued. "At dawn they led him before Pilate. Twice the Roman denied his guilt; twice he refused to give him over. At last he washed his hands, and said, 'Be it upon you then;' and they answered
" "Who answered?" "They
the priests and people
'His blood be upon us and our children.'" "Holy father Abraham!" cried Ben-Hur; "a Roman kinder to an Israelite than his own kin! And if
ah, if he should indeed be the son of God, what shall ever wash his blood from their children? It must not be
'tis time to fight! — Lew Wallace

Only now was it starting to make sense why Lady Macbeth could never scrub the blood off her hands, why it was still there after she washed it away. — Donna Tartt

Tom." Mrs. Sprye's tone was severe. "I expect you to look after this boy, not encourage him to go about brawling in the street. In broad daylight!"
Tom was stung. "It's nigh impossible to brawl in the dark, Mrs. Sprye. And look - " He put his hands on Trumpet's shoulders and turned him full circle. "Scarcely a scratch on him. A bit dirty, true, but I believe that Pygmies can be washed. — Anna Castle

But I didn't know that then. I washed my hands in the cold, uncaring sea, and my conscience was as silent and remote as the mute, unreachable stars. — Gregory David Roberts

But Khair did not need such proof of her husband's love for her. Over and over again, James had risked everything for her. Most reationshps in life can survive - or not - without being put to any real crucial, fundamental test. It was James's fate for his love to be tested not once, but four times...At each stage he could easily have washed his hands off his teenage lover. Each time he chose to remain true to her. That, not the words of any will, was the evidence she could cling to. — William Dalrymple

Lay down these words
Before your mind like rocks.
placed solid, by hands
In choice of place, set
Before the body of the mind
in space and time:
Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall
riprap of things:
Cobble of milky way.
straying planets,
These poems, people,
lost ponies with
Dragging saddles --
and rocky sure-foot trails.
The worlds like an endless
four-dimensional
Game of Go.
ants and pebbles
In the thin loam, each rock a word
a creek-washed stone
Granite: ingrained
with torment of fire and weight
Crystal and sediment linked hot
all change, in thoughts,
As well as things. — Gary Snyder

Stay out of my mind. You certainly weren't invited.' Her hands went to her hips. 'And just for the record, your mind needs to be washed out with soap! Half the things you think we're going to do are never going to happen. I could never look at you again. — Christine Feehan

Once, I compared poetry to mothers in my book called To Write as a Woman, because my mother is someone who captures me in her body and gave birth to me out of her desire but washed her hands of me after giving birth to me as a poet. — Kim Hyesoon

The truth is that not yet usually means never. Trying to run away from the responsibility to decide about Christ is childish. Pilate sought to refuse responsibility for deciding about Christ, but Pilate's hands were never dirtier than just after he had washed them. — Neal A. Maxwell

Buddy had taken to Gillian in a major way. He thumped his leg, the way rabbits in love always do. He paid no attention to her frown, or the fact that she waved her hands at him, as if he were a cat to be shooed away. He trailed behind her into the living room. When Gillian stopped, Buddy sat down on the rug and looked up at her.
"You quit this right now," Gillian said.
She wagged her finger and glared at him, but Buddy stayed where he was. He had big brown eyes that were rimmed with pink. He looked serious and dignified, even when he washed his paws with his tongue. — Alice Hoffman

The Resistance needs you. I need you. What do you say?" Jacob suddenly stood. He did not answer but rather cleared their dishes and washed them in the sink. "Your father doesn't see what we see," Avi said after a long silence, as if he knew exactly what Jacob was thinking. "You know that. You've heard us arguing. You've heard what he's said. He doesn't see it. That breaks my heart. But there's nothing more I can do about it. If he won't save himself, we're going to have to take matters into our own hands." "But if I join you, what will happen to them?" "I can't give you answers, Jacob," Avi replied. "I can't promise you they'll be safe. I hope they will be. But I don't really know. All I can do is tell you the truth, which is this: the moment of reckoning is at hand. I've made my choice. Now you must make yours. — Joel C. Rosenberg

something happened to me. God heard my deep cries of anguish. A feeling of lightness flowed over me, and I knew a change of heart had taken place. I felt different. I was different. At last I stood up, placed the Bible on the edge of the tub, and went to the sink. I washed my face and hands, straightened my clothes. I walked out of the bathroom a changed young man. "My temper will never control me again," I told myself. "Never again. I'm free." And since that day, since those long hours wrestling with myself and crying to God for help, I have never had a problem with my temper. That — Ben Carson

Oh! just, subtle, and mighty opium! that to the hearts of poor and rich alike, for the wounds that will never heal, and for 'the pangs that tempt the spirit to rebel,' bringest an assuaging balm; eloquent opium! that with thy potent rhetoric stealest away the purposes of wrath; and to the guilty man, for one night givest back the hopes of his youth, and hands washed pure of blood.... — Thomas De Quincey

Heard about the young deaf boy who used sign language-One day he told his mother a dirty joke and she washed his hands out with soap — Red Skelton

I explained about how we were in Rick's hands and also how he had washed his hands. — Miranda July

Every object you see before you at this moment -the walls, ceiling, and furniture, the book, your own washed hands and cut fingernails, bears witness to the colonization of Nature of Reason. — C.S. Lewis

As he turned away I had the feeling he had washed his hands of me. Was I not the kind of little boy he wanted to have? — William Maxwell

The kiss was deep and thorough and utterly possessive. It claimed her lips and rendered her knees weak. His hands cupped her face, his fingertips coming to rest on her temples, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. His tongue delved into her mouth, seeking hers. Finding it, mating with it. She wanted to stop him, she knew she should - it was insane to let him kiss her like this - but the second the notion of pulling away entered her mind it was washed away by the waves of desire and need Nick's kiss sent surging through her. — Lexxie Couper

Never wade through the pretty ripples
of perpetually flowing
rivers, until you have looked at their lovely waters,
and prayed to them,
and washed your hands in the pale enchanting water. — Hesiod

Set we forward; let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together. So through Lud's town march,
And in the temple of the great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts.
Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace. — William Shakespeare

Tomorrow, at dawn, the moment the countryside is washed with daylight,
I will leave. You see, I know that you wait for me.
I will go through forest, I will go across the mountains.
I cannot rest far from you for long.
I will trudge on, my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Without seeing what is outside of myself, without hearing a single sound,
Alone, unknown, back bent, hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like the night.
I will not look upon the golden sunset as night falls,
Nor the sailboats from afar that descend on Harfleur,
And when I arrive, I will place on your grave
A bouquet of holly and heather in bloom. — Victor Hugo

Naturally, etiquette books order handwashing before as well as after meals, but the practice also appears, with a frequency that borders on obsession, in poetry. Poets found it hard to describe a banquet or even a meal without affirming that everyone washed their hands. — Katherine Ashenburg

You don't get to keep the feelings for someone you once loved. Once you've washed your hands of that person, all those feelings, all that dirty water is washed out to sea. — Samantha Hunt

Darling Daddy,
Poor Saffy. She had a big fight in the boys toilets on Monday, did you know? A very big fight and Sarah helped and it was terrifying. Said a boy in my class who has a brother who was there.
Saffy washed her hands and said Never Ever Never Dare You Touch My Brother. (Indigo). And the plug holes were blocked with hair.
Love from Rose.
-Sarah's mother has given us soup. Soup soup soup and then it was all gone.
L.F.R. — Hilary McKay

Do they still hurt?" she whispered in anguished surprise.
"No," Jason said tautly. Shame washed over him in sickening waves as he waited helplessly for her inevitable reaction to the stark evidence of his humiliation.
To his utter disbelief he felt her arms encircle him from behind and the touch of her lips on his back. "How brave you must have been to endure this," she whispered achingly, "how strong to survive it and go on living ... " When she began kissing each scar, Jason rolled to his side and jerked her into his arms. "I love you," he whispered agonizedly, plunging his hands into her luxuriant hair and turning her face up to his. "I love you so much ... — Judith McNaught

It was as if, once she was married, the woman had washed her hands of the girl. However, the welts on her back had been the final straw. Aye, they would leave for MacKay first thing tomorrow morning, Ross determined. He would take her home, where they could consummate their marriage in the bed where she would one day give birth to their children. Annabel's life here was done. She was his now. — Lynsay Sands

In a good-natured way he had almost decided that Princeton was one part deadly Philistines and one part deadly grinds, and to find a person who could mention Keats without stammering, yet evidently washed his hands, was rather a treat. — F Scott Fitzgerald

He moved, so quick, it was as if I blinked and he vanished from the window and reappeared in front of me. I jumped in surprise, hitting the door with a dull thud. I may have breathed his name, but I couldn't be sure of anything except his swelling scent and the heat wafting off his body. The dreamy sensation pulsed in my skull, filling me with an airy sensation that sucked the breath from my lungs. The current washed through me, carrying away all reasoning, all doubts. It was just me and him and the pounding electricity between us.
"I - I didn't come for this." yet, my hands reached for him, fisting in his hair and curling around his shoulder. "I should ... go ... " I pulled him to me. — Airicka Phoenix

Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance. — John Donne

Crawford washed her hands a lot. She washed her arms all the way up past her elbows. She just couldn't get enough done in that direction. She was compulsive about being clean, clean, clean! — Fay Wray

Dad told Uncle Seth not to screw things up," she informed me as we washed our hands. "He said even if Uncle Seth is famous, him getting a woman like you defies belief."
I laughed and smoothed down the skirt of my dress. "I don't know about that. I don't think your dad gives your uncle enough credit."
Brandy gave me a sage look, worthy of someone much older. "Uncle Seth spent last Valentine's Day at a library. — Richelle Mead

I should be getting back to the bonfire. They're going to think I've been kidnapped." He pulled me toward him in one quick motion.

"Kidnapped insinuates some sort of struggle." He said in a low voice with a sexy grin. "You'd enjoy being captured by me." My heart jumped in my throat, but I tried to remain cool.

"I'd like to see you try," I threw back at him, "but first you'll have to escape your own sandy death trap" I wiggled my feet out of the sand, stood up and washed my hands off in the water. He followed my every move with curious eyes.

"Sweet dreams, Anastasia." I wasn't sure if there was an underlying meaning to his words. "Sweet dreams, Finn," I responded, breathlessly. — Kristen Day

My hands fell asleep, so I washed them with hot coffee. Then I had donuts for breakfast, by way of spinning circles in my car and burning rubber in the parking garage of my office building. — Jarod Kintz

Then Wang Lung turned to the woman and looked at her for the first time. She had a square, honest face, a short, broad nose with large black nostrils, and her mouth was wide as a gash in her face. Her eyes were small and of a dull black in color, and were filled with some sadness that was not clearly expressed. It was a face that seemed habitually silent and unspeaking, as though it could not speak if it would. She bore patiently Wang Lung's look, without embarrassment or response, simply waiting until he had seen her. He saw that it was true there was not beauty of any kind in her face - a brown, common, patient face. But there were no pock-marks on her dark skin, nor was her lip split. In her ears he saw his rings hanging, the gold-washed rings he had bought, and on her hands were the rings he had given her. He turned away with secret exultation. Well, he had his woman! — Pearl S. Buck

At Adam's fine cheekbones, his furrowed fair eyebrows, his beautiful hands, everything washed out by the furious light. He had memorized the shape of Adam's hands in particular: the way his thumb jutted awkwardly, boyishly; the roads of the prominent veins; the large knuckles that punctuated his long fingers. In dreams Ronan put them to his mouth. His feelings for Adam were an oil spill; he'd let them overflow and now there wasn't a damn place in the ocean that wouldn't catch fire if he dropped a match. Chainsaw — Maggie Stiefvater

She washed he hands,then looked at my side. "you haven't even had it stitched?" She said incredulously.
"I've been rather busy," I said. "With the running like hell and hiding all night. — Patrick Rothfuss

I need you to have me. Make love to me." God bent slightly and placed his lips to Day's ear. "I want you to top me." Day froze in place. His eyes lowered in contemplation, hands resting lightly on God's waist. Top him. Suddenly a ton of feelings washed over him. He simultaneously became excited, nervous, scared, and extremely turned-on. All those emotions swirling around inside his head and heart at once. "Please. I trust you. I trust you to make it right. — A.E. Via

They washed their hands in one basin. Clare touched hers under the water. "Which are my fingers and which are yours?" he said, looking up. "They are very much mixed." "They are all yours," said she, very prettily, — Thomas Hardy

I was overcome with happiness, love, and tenderness ... Right after he was washed, I studied him with my hands: his downy little head, his little nose, everything on the tiny body. — Andrea Bocelli

She often appeared at my chambers to talk over his lapses; for if, as she declared, she had washed her hands of him, she had carefully preserved the water of this ablution, which she handed about for analysis. — Henry James

Ronan crossed his arms to wait, just looking. At Adam's fine cheekbones, his furrowed fair eyebrows, his beautiful hands, everything washed out by the furious light. He had memorized the shape of Adam's hands in particular: the way his thumb jutted awkwardly, boyishly; the roads of the prominent veins; the large knuckles that punctuated his long fingers. In dreams Ronan put them to his mouth. — Maggie Stiefvater

She washed her hands three times. Velia gripped the sink, dropping her head and watching the tinged water drain. Trying to get a grip, she held back tears and vomit, and would have been fine if not for seeing more blood splatters on her sleeves. She held on to her last bit of strength, still refusing to cry. God, let this be a nightmare! — Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

Thank, God," Jason said as the tide of his blue eyes washed over her.
"What?" Alexis asked, her own smile turning the corners of her mouth up.
"You're really here. It wasn't just a dream," Jason responded, kissing her forehead.
"I plan on always being here," she said, her hands drawing circles on his bare chest.
He pulled her closer, their fronts molding together, one of her legs rested on his hip.
"You've sufficiently invaded every part of me, Alexis; my heart, my mind, and now my dreams."
"You don't have to dream to have me, Jason." Alexis' heart melted, realizing just how true his statement had become. This man had invaded every part of her, captured it exclusively for himself; her heart, mind, dreams, and body belonged to this man. — Lindsay Chamberlin

ADVERSITY CAN DISTRESS US OR BLESS US The way we use adversity is strictly our own choice, For in God's Hands adversity can make the heart rejoice - For everything God sends to us, no matter in what form, Is sent with plan and purpose for by the fierceness of a storm The atmosphere is changed and cleared and the earth is washed and clean. — Helen Steiner Rice

When the two men finally appeared in the dining hall after having washed and changed from the journey, Daisy's heart pounded too fast to allow for a full breath.
Matthew's glance swept the company at large, and he bowed as Westcliff did. Both of them appeared collected and remarkably fresh. One would think they had been absent for seven minutes instead of seven days.
Before going to his place at the head of the table, Westcliff went to Lillian. Since the earl was never given to public demonstrations, it astonished everyone, including Lillian, when he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. She flushed and said something about the vicar being there, making Westcliff laugh. — Lisa Kleypas