#fingers

Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#desire #fingers #had #i #instead

I can remember being in my pram: children stayed in their prams much longer then than they do now. A big bouncy pram with black covers and a hood with metal clips that could trap your fingers. I was looking up at my sister who was sitting on the pram seat, with her back to me. ↗

— Helen Dunmore

#being #big #black #children #clips

The final release point for the fastball is the tips of your fingers. ↗

— Steve Carlton

#final #fingers #point #release #tips

The fingers must be educated, the thumb is born knowing. ↗

— Marc Chagall

#educated #fingers #knowing #must #thumb

I symbolized doping... My phone rarely rings. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of riders who call me. ↗

— Richard Virenque

#count #doping #fingers #hand #i

They were very considerate, I must say. Every time I felt I was about to slip out of these fingers and would yell for help, they'd let me down and re-organize things. ↗

— Fay Wray

#considerate #down #every #every time #felt

You sure you don't want to go?” Grandma Mazur asked my mother. “I didn't know Moogey Bues,” my mother told her. “I've got better things to do than to go to a viewing of a perfect stranger.” “I wouldn't go either,” Grandma Mazur said, “but I'm helping Stephanie with this here manhunt. Maybe Kenny Mancuso will show up, and Stephanie will need some extra muscle. I was watching Television, and I saw how you stick your fingers in a person's eyes to slow them down.” “She's your responsibility,” my mother said to me. “She sticks her fingers in anybody's eyes I'm holding you accountable. ↗

— Janet Evanovich

#grandma-mazur #humor #stephaine-s-mom #stephanie-plum #sticking-fingers-in-eyes

I’ve fought in three campaigns,” he began. “In seven pitched battles. In countless raids and skirmishes and desperate defences, and bloody actions of every kind. I’ve fought in the driving snow, the blasting wind, the middle of the night. I’ve been fighting all my life, one enemy or another, one friend or another. I’ve known little else. I’ve seen men killed for a word, for a look, for nothing at all. A woman tried to stab me once for killing her husband, and I threw her down a well. And that’s far from the worst of it. Life used to be cheap as dirt to me. Cheaper. “I’ve fought ten single combats and I won them all, but I fought on the wrong side and for all the wrong reasons. I’ve been ruthless, and brutal, and a coward. I’ve stabbed men in the back, burned them, drowned them, crushed them with rocks, killed them asleep, unarmed, or running away. I’ve run away myself more than once. I’ve pissed myself with fear. I’ve begged for my life. I’ve been wounded, often, and badly, and screamed and cried like a baby whose mother took her tit away. I’ve no doubt the world would be a better place if I’d been killed years ago, but I haven’t been, and I don’t know why.” He looked down at his hands, pink and clean on the stone. “There are few men with more blood on their hands than me. None, that I know of. The Bloody-Nine they call me, my enemies, and there’s a lot of ’em. Always more enemies, and fewer friends. Blood gets you nothing but more blood. It follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow I can never be free of it. I should never be free of it. I’ve earned it. I’ve deserved it. I’ve sought it out. Such is my punishment. ↗

— Joe Abercrombie

#logen-ninefingers #life

When a man points a finger at someone else, he should remember that four of his fingers are pointing at himself. ↗

— Louis Nizer

#finger #fingers #four #himself #his