A Quote by George Jean Nathan

No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched. — © George Jean Nathan
No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched.
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.
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.
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.
People with clenched fists can not shake hands.
All day long he was docile, intelligent, good, Though sometimes changing to a darker mood. He seemed hypocritical, could tell better lies, in the dark he saw dots of colors behind closed eyes, clenched fists, put his tongue out at his elder brother.
"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."
We hold each other's lives in our open hands, not in clenched fists.
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.
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.
We cannot sow seeds with clenched fists. To sow we must open our hands.
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.
Ah, God! what trances of torments does that man endure who is consumed with one unachieved revengeful desire. He sleeps with clenched hands; and wakes with his own bloody nails in his palms.
Are there many people without illness or disability who sit at home in the evening with clenched fists, continually changing the channel of a television set and wishing they had the courage to roll over the parapet of a high bridge? I bet there are millions of us.
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.
Man is clearly made to think. It is his whole dignity and his whole merit; and his whole duty is to think as he ought. And the order of thought is to begin with ourselves, and with our Author and our end.
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