A Quote by Janet Fitch

He reminded me of someone who put your fingers in the door and smiled and talked to you while he smashed them. — © Janet Fitch
He reminded me of someone who put your fingers in the door and smiled and talked to you while he smashed them.
Listen, you. Don't threaten me. I could make your life a nightmare. He put his hand in front of her face and unfolded three fingers as he said, I'm F-B-I. She smiled. It wasn't the reaction he expected. You want to talk nightmares? she said. She put her hand up to his face and unfolded her three fingers. I'm I-R-S.
Be careful not to be the first to put your hands in the dish. What you cannot hold in your hands you must put on your plate. Also it is a great breach of etiquette when your fingers are dirty and greasy, to bring them to your mouth in order to lick them, or to clean them on your jacket. It would be more decent to use the tablecloth.
What you can't teach someone is how to find the door. You can't give someone a door to another universe. You can tell them that the door exists, and if they're stuck in the hallway you can be like, "You're stuck in the hallway," but you can't open the door for them.
Get a book, so you know where to put your fingers. Otherwise it would be tough to learn. Also you have to fight through getting callouses on your fingers because it hurts, you are pressing your fingers on metal strings, they will hurt at first until you start building up callouses.
Without someone giving you a shot, opening a door, believing that your obsession is a real thing when you're young, you don't get the opportunity. Every single day I'm reminded of that.
Gideon opened his and read, “Prosperity will knock on your door soon.” I snorted. Cary shot me a look. “I know, right? You snatched someone else’s cookie, Cross.” “He better not be anywhere near someone else’s cookie,” I said dryly. Reaching over, Gideon plucked half of mine out of my fingers. “Don’t worry, angel. Your cookie is the only one I want.
He must have smiled at me, though I don't really know, but I don't like to think that I would love someone who hadn't first smiled at me.
Something in the movement of fingers on the keyboard enhances thought. Fingers pull your thoughts forward. Fingers are in some way an extension of your brain, with a lot of cortex associations at their trigger. Get them going!
But I also meant that loving someone really opening your heart to them is just asking to have your heart smashed and handed back to you in little pieces.
The road to life is rocky, and you may stumble too. So while you point your fingers, someone else is judging you.
I'll have that someday, thought Peter. Someone who'll kiss me good-bye at the door. Or maybe just someone to put a blindfold over my head before they shoot me. Depending on how things turn out.
You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.
I opened the door and Lend smiled. 'They look better on you.' 'Wow, they must look just awful on you then.' I smiled back.
You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered. Someone whose fingers are a poem.
Like a lovely vase that someone has smashed. Only luck and skill can put it back together the way it was before.
?When you point your finger at someone, anyone, it is often a moment of judgement. We point our fingers when we want to scold someone, point out what they have done wrong. But each time we point, we simultaneously point three fingers back at ourselves.
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