A Quote by Ann Voskamp

I came into this world the way every person on the planet does - with clenched fists. — © Ann Voskamp
I came into this world the way every person on the planet does - with clenched fists.
We are born into this world with clenched fists, we leave it with fingers apart- preaching the lesson that you take nothing with you.
When I came to California, it was the mecca of the world. Every young person on the planet wanted to be here.
Good beats upon the damned incessantly as sound waves beat on the ears of the deaf, but they cannot receive it. Their fists are clenched, their teeth are clenched, their eyes fast shut. First they will not, in the end they cannot, open their hands for gifts, or their mouth for food, or their eyes to see.
People with clenched fists can not shake hands.
Women are beginning to lose their identity. They have jumped with teeth clenched, fists braced and eyes aglow, into the competitive man's world. They're losing the vibrant quality of femininity, the aura of mystery.
No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched.
We hold each other's lives in our open hands, not in clenched fists.
I remember reaching college and having to introduce myself at every class, it was terrifying. I waited fists clenched as one by one my classmates said their names out loud and when it was my turn I simpered and squeezed out a barely audible introduction, my face burned as if it was on fire.
One thing I have learned is, if people tell you they had a "frank" discussion with someone, it is usually code for a yelling match with clenched fists.
I think of the church as this bride of Christ, who is incredibly capable of doing amazing things. And so where we see injustice, we come, not with fists clenched but with palms up.
We cannot sow seeds with clenched fists. To sow we must open our hands.
We must apply our humble efforts to the construction of a more just and humane world. And I want to declare emphatically: Such a world is possible. To create this new society, we must present outstretched and friendly hands, without hatred and rancor, even as we show great determination and never waver in the defense of truth and justice. Because we know that we cannot sow seeds with clenched fists. To sow we must open our hands.
"He's lying, Kay," Nash said, fists clenched at his sides. "Hellions can't lie, but we all know reapers can." "Careful, pot," Tod said. "Someone might notice your resemblance to the kettle."
You can approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness, or even despair - the sense that you can never completely put on the page what's in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page.
The resistance to praying is like the resistance of tightly clenched fists. This image shows a tension, a desire to cling tightly to yourself, a greediness which betrays fear.
I wanted to demonstrate that Deathstroke does not need to solve every problem with his fists.
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