Hands Quotes - Page 3

As the High Priestess looked down upon the child, she was struck by her holy perfection. She was a tiny person in miniature, and her beautiful eyes, little hands, and long eyelashes were sublime.

Whenever He answers prayers, God usually prioritizes those by people who, instead of their mouths, have prayed with their hands and/or feet.

Being lucky is in your hands as it’s outcome of your deeds.

Here I can become the blessing, a little life that multiplies joy, making the larger world a better place.God can enter into me, even me, and use these hands, these feet, to be His love, a love that goes on and on and on forever, endless cycle of grace.

One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.

Sometimes, power could change hands as quickly as a knife thrust.

Get up,” she said. “Get up, my lord. If you do not have long, there is still much to do. You must not waste another day, another morning! Take hold of your life with both hands and crush it to you, my lord. You will not have another in this world.

The hopeful lenses of our eyes are fixed on the busy hands of our dependable God... He is working hardly on our prayers... Don't be afraid!

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.

Your resources could go to where your hands could not reach.

Your success lies in your own hands. You must therefore not wait for the grass to become greener by magic. You have the hands to irrigate your own territory by doing what is expected of you!

Failure becomes success when it finds positive minds; Tragedy becomes melody when it lands in positive hands. With positivity, possibility is assured!

God deals us all different hands. How we play 'em is up to us.

Hands are difficult. You would think they would be just five quick lines, but no, they have personalities as intimate as faces. Elizabeth's hands, for instance—they are fine hands, with long fingers that remind me of tapered candles. A person one has loved—the memory of their hands. Did they flutter or sit still? Dry? Moist? Cool on a hot forehead? What? That is what I wish to express in my paintings. The memory—of the movement—of very particular hands, even though they appear to be unmoving on canvas.

...we've let go of so many things, but never each other's hand ...

It's not being a woman I mind so much," she said slowly. "'Tis the way men seem to always order my life." She leaned earnestly toward him. "Your hand, Papa, has wielded a sword and cradled a child and held power over hundreds of men." She held up her own hand. "This one has far fewer adventures before it.

And the moment she held that diary in her hands, she summoned all her demons at once. The moment she opened it a hand from every page held her and pulled her inside. And in a moment even before she could realize what was happening to her she was drowning in the sea, fighting to breathe and fighting to swim back to the surface. But the hands kept pulling her down deep into the darkness until her voice died slowly.

I feel the healinghands of Godtouch my heartand kiss my soul.

I know my breasts, smallas plums, would win no blue ribbons.But in your hands they tremble and fillwith song like plump, white birds.

A seemingly simple task like taking a bath or wearing a condom feels like multitasking to someone who suffers from hemiplegia or has only one hand.

All this time, William doesn’t move from my side, his hand surely and confidently glued to my waist like it belongs there, one piece of a puzzle that matches the other, making the picture complete.

Cam was staring into her coffee, cradling the mug in both hands. A working woman's hands, sporting a few scrapes and scratches. Strong, capable hands.

Retirement is the menopause of an employee’s mind and hands.