Fingers Quote by Janet Fitch Download Open image “Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.” — Janet Fitch ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 3.8 out of 5 (7 ratings) Copy quoteShare Fingers Funny Inspirational Love Poetry Touch someone
“You must find... someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Poetry is an extra hand. It can caress or tickle. It can clench and fight. — Adrian Mitchell Copy Share Image
“Whenever you touch a poem that caresses your soul, breathe it gently for it might be the wind that perfects your life's goal.” — A. Saleh Copy Share Image
How could anybody confuse truth with beauty, I thought as I looked at him. Truth came with sunken eyes, bony or scarred, decayed. Its… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I love Derrick Brown for the surprise of one word waking up next to another. One moment tender, funny or romantic, the next, visceral,… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“That fucking crow-bodied thing had won. How gleeful it was now. All because he'd wanted to live, forget genius and destiny, and simply be… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
The nearest I'd come to feeling anything like God was the plan blue cloudless sky and a certain silence, but how do you pray… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
When most people looked at Josie Tyrell, they only saw a certain collection of bones, a selection of forms filling space. But Michael saw… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“They can't touch us. We're the Vikings. We go into battle without armor for the flush and the blood of it.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“But I knew one more thing. That people who denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind's destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race. Three… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“If I were a poet, that’s what I’d write about. People who worked in the middle of the night. Men who loaded trains, emergency… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“what was the point in creating something that was so futile and so precious? everything beautiful was like that. a little bit of the… — Janet Fitch 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
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