Fingers Quote by Horace Download Open image “A man perfect to the finger tips.” — Horace ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 2.1 out of 5 (10 ratings) Copy quoteShare Fingers Men Perfect
I know that I am not perfect and that I don't claim to be, so before you point your fingers make sure your hands… — Bob Marley Copy Share Image
I know I'm not perfect and I don't live to be, but before you start to point fingers make sure your fingers are clean. — Kiara Leigh Copy Share Image
His fingers never ceased to amaze me. They could break a man's neck, bandage a wound, and slide sensually across bare skin. — Richelle Mead Copy Share Image
When a man points a finger at someone else, he should remember that four of his fingers are pointing at himself. — Louis Nizer Copy Share Image
“The thumb may look like an ordinary finger, truly it is a miraculous gift from God! If all the fingers were long and straight,… — Md. Ziaul Haque Copy Share Image
I Have Five Fingers For A Reason My Pinky Finer: For My BestFriends, And The Promises We Made That I'll Never Break Between Us.… — Me Copy Share Image
Strange - is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us… — Horace Copy Share Image
“Finxerunt animi, raro et perpauca loquentis. (To action little, less to words inclinded.)” — Horace Copy Share Image
No verse can give pleasure for long, nor last, that is written by drinkers of water. — Horace Copy Share Image
Fate with impartial hand turns out the doom of high and low; her capacious urn is constantly shaking the names of all mankind. — Horace Copy Share Image
In a moment comes either death or joyful victory. [Lat., Horae Momento cita mors venit aut victoria laeta.] — Horace Copy Share Image
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - It is a sweet and becoming thing to die for ones country. — Horace Copy Share Image
Neither men, nor gods, nor booksellers' shelves permit ordinary poets to exist. [Lat., Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non di, non concessere columnae.] — Horace Copy Share Image
Don't yield to that alluring witch, laziness, or else be prepared to surrender all that you have won in your better moments. — Horace Copy Share Image
Avoid inquisitive persons, for they are sure to be gossips, their ears are open to hear, but they will not keep what is entrusted… — Horace Copy Share Image
“You may drive out Nature with a pitchfork, yet she still will hurry back.” — Horace Copy Share Image
A poet is wounded into speech, and he examines these wounds, meticulously, to discover how to heal them. The bad poet harangues at the… — Samuel R. Delany Copy Share Image
Ambition drives you on, ability certainly helps, but the fickle finger of fate and luck are great things. — Fergus Henderson Copy Share Image
The nineteenth century lynching mob cuts off ears, toes, and fingers, strips off flesh, and distributes portions of the body as souvenirs among the… — Ida B. Wells Copy Share Image
The child who ran weeping to you with a cut finger is now brought home, smiling gamely, with a broken collarbone and incredible contusions-… — Pam Brown Copy Share Image
Sam reached his hand toward mine and I automatically put my fingers in his. With a guilty little smile he pulled my hand toward… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share Image
I take the seashell from my jeans pocket and rub my fingers across its silken, indented surface, shallow as my own open hand. This… — Katrina Kenison Copy Share Image
The world belongs to those who think and act with it, who keep a finger on its pulse. — William Ralph Inge Copy Share Image
Shhh.” He put a finger to her lips. “Hear me out. I cannot deny that I would've liked to have made babies with you.… — Elizabeth Hoyt Copy Share Image
[Sport officials] blocked their support of us. But those individuals [ Muhammad Ali, the Jim Browns, the Bill Russells, Kareem Abdul Jabbar ] were… — John Carlos Copy Share Image
Jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body's breath, and the strings' wails and moans are… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I would have touched it like a child But knew my finger could but have touched Cold stone and water. I grew wild, Even… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image