I'm not anymore because I haven't kept up with my certification, but I was a certified actor combatant in rapier, dagger, hand-to-hand, and quarterstaff.
I feel very strongly that you can't just beat people up anymore; you have to work hand in hand and find ways to compromise, and get big business involved, because it won't happen otherwise.
I like the idea of going to university and studying. I didn't do it because it was a back-up plan. In some ways, it kind of goes hand in hand with acting. There's a lot of analysis and enriching your mind, as well as problem solving. And it can only help being around people as an actor.
When I was young, I was trained in stage fighting and rapier and dagger for several years.
When I was young I was trained in stage fighting and rapier and dagger, for several years.
This hand is not very active always, because it was in this hand that I carried my books. My carrying hand was always my strongest. Now I think my other hand has developed more muscles from signing all those autographs.
My left hand is my thinking hand. The right is only a motor hand. This holds the hammer. The left hand, the thinking hand, must be relaxed, sensitive. The rhythms of thought pass through the fingers and grip of this hand into the stone.
At first it was difficult for me to draw. My right hand doesn't work anymore so I had to train myself to use my left hand. But I persevered. The first one I ended up finishing was the duck.
He took something out of his jacket and handed it to her. It was a long thin dagger in a leather sheath. The hilt of the dagger was set with a single red stone carved in the shape of a rose. She shook her head. "I wouldn't even know how to use that--" He pressed it into her hand, curling her fingers around it. "You'd learn." He dropped his voice. "It's in your blood." She drew her hand back slowly. "All right." "I could give you a thigh sheath to put that in," Isabelle offered. "I've got tons." "CERTAINLY NOT," said Simon.
Edward stretched out his arm, his hand curled into a fist. Seth grinned, revealing the long row of dagger teeth, and bumped his nose against Edward's hand. "Nice teamwork," Edward murmured.
She looked at her hand: Just some hand, holding a cheap pen. Some girls’ hand. She had nothing to do with that hand. Let that hand do whatever it wanted to.
The hand that held the dagger has struck it into the back of its neighbor.
Yes, disappointment over perceived unfairness, injustice, promises not kept, tends to go hand in hand with increasing prosperity. Expectations are dashed. What can I say!
The hand of bone and sinew and flesh achieves its immortality in taking up a pen. The hand on a page wields a greater power than the fleshly hand ever could in life.
My left hand is my thinking hand (image), my right hand my doing hand (sequence).
I am not a certified idiot—" "Lack of certification hardly proves intelligence," Will muttered.
I suppose it's whether you want to be a famous person, or whether you want to be an actor. You have to decide what your priorities are. Great actor, huge star. Sometimes, the two walk hand in hand. Most of the time, they don't.