A Quote by Charles Lamb

If dirt were trumps, what hands you would hold! — © Charles Lamb
If dirt were trumps, what hands you would hold!
My dad loves boxing, so he used to hold up his hands when we were little kids, and we would punch his hands, and he slowly got us little gloves, and little punching bags that he'd always hold for us.
I held hands with her all the time...that doesn't sound like much, I realize, but she was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they'd bore you or something.
I may not have hands to hold my wife’s hands, but I don’t need hands to hold her heart. That’s what I’m gonna hold.
She was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they'd bore you or something. Jane was different. We'd get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we'd start holding hands, and we wouldn't quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a big deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.
I hold my face in my two hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face in my two hands to keep the loneliness warm - two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands preventing my soul from leaving me in anger.
Enthusiasm — real grassroots enthusiasm — trumps money, trumps endorsements, trumps everything.
Dirt's a funny thing,' the Boss said. 'Come to think of it, there ain't a thing but dirt on this green God's globe except what's under water, and that's dirt too. It's dirt makes the grass grow. A diamond ain't a thing in the world but a piece of dirt that got awful hot. And God-a-Mighty picked up a handful of dirt and blew on it and made you and me and George Washington and mankind blessed in faculty and apprehension. It all depends on what you do with the dirt. That right?
The presumptuous sin of Uzzah was that He assumed his hands were less polluted than the dirt.
I would hold on, and hold on, until my hands clutch at emptiness.
This is a long goodbye, yet not time enough. I have no aptitude for this. I cannot learn this. I would hold on, and hold on, until my hands clutch at emptiness.
What kind of husband am I gonna be if I can't even hold my wife's hand? ...but I realized I may not have hands to hold my wife's hand, but when the time comes, I'll be able to hold her heart. I don't need hands to hold her heart.
I got makeup tests and hair tests for 'Versailles,' and the main thing they were obsessed with was that my hands were disgusting. I had three years of Irish dirt under my nails. I had to have manicures and everything.
Kindness trumps greed: it asks for sharing. Kindness trumps fear: it calls forth gratefulness and love. Kindness trumps even stupidity, for with sharing and love, one learns.
Love trumps hate. Courage loves fear. Right always trumps wrong.
. . . [T]o live not with hands clenched to grasp, to strike, to hold tight to a life that is always slipping away the more tightly we hold it, but . . . to live with the hands stretched out both to give and receive with gladness.
I read, go for walks and I love to garden. My hands are such a mess. People think I should have movie star hands, but they're just gardening ones. Always slightly grubby and with a bit of dirt under the fingernails.
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