A Quote by Limmy

People who give off about fat-shaming and body-shaming are often the same people who talk about Trump's hair or how fat he is, or how old he is. The size of his hands and his fingers - that's the big one: let's all have a big laugh at his hands.
You would think after all the hours I’d spent with Gale– watching him talk and laugh and frown– that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn’t imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands [...] could entrap me… I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest.
I hear footsteps and Four's hands wrap around my wrists. I let him pry my hands from my eyes. He encloses one of my hands perfectly between two of his. The warmth of his skin overwhelms the ache in my fingers from holding the bars. "You all right?" he asks, pressing our hands together. "Yeah." He starts to laugh.
It is shaming sometimes how the body will not, or cannot, lie about emotions. Who, for decorum’s sake, has ever slowed his heart, or muted a blush?
When I say a girl like me, I bet you think I'm just talking about being fat. How dare you fat-shame me? You think I'm talking about being black? Racist. What makes you think I'm not talking about being smart? What? You don't think a fat, black girl can be smart or something? Fat-shaming racists like you make me sick.
I stand for body confidence and against fat shaming, but I will not support people who live on bad cholesterol.
Christ knows how to minister to others perfectly. When the Savior stretches out His hands, those He touches are uplifted and become greater, stronger, and better people as a result. If we are His hands, should we not do the same?
We're always too skinny, or too fat. Too tall, or too short. We're shaming each other, and we're shaming ourselves, and it sucks.
I use the word 'fat'. I use that word because that's what people are: they're fat. They're not bulky; they're not large, chunky, hefty or plump. And they're not big-boned. Dinosaurs were big-boned. These people are not overweight: this term somehow implies there is some correct weight... There is no correct weight. Heavy is also a misleading term. An aircraft carrier is heavy; it's not fat. Only people are fat, and that's what fat people are! They're fat !
Oh baby," he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers. The bathroom door clicks shut. She stays there for a long time. He's pulling his hair out.
I miss him still today: his long, whiskery eyebrows, his huge hands and hugs, his warmth, his prayers, his stories, but above all his shining example of how to live and how to die.
Donald Trump talks to a lot of people. That doesn't change his ultimate views. If you go back on YouTube and you look at Donald Trump talking about trade in the 1980s, in the 1990s, this is the same person today. He's no different. So, while a lot of people like to talk and argue about who's talking to President Trump and who's influencing him to make decisions, it's Donald Trump. It's his agenda. It's always been his agenda. And it always will be his agenda.
One of the issues I think is very important, in many communities of color, there's a stigma about mental health. We find that the shaming that comes from acknowledging that one may have some issues that may relate to mental health, often people are not willing to go and seek additional help because of that shaming or that cultural stigma that's associated with it. And I think that we need to make this change in how people approach mental health.
With a gentle pressure, our lips met. His hands slipped more firmly about me, and I held myself back, not afraid, but wanting to feel everything slowly as I leaned in, tasting the wine on him, feeling the warmth of his body pressing into mine, breathing in our scents that were mingling and changing with the warmth. My hands rose to find his hair, and I relaxed into him as the silky strands brushed through my fingers. I wanted more, and I leaned into him as our lips moved against each other.
I knew when I shot the 'She Keeps Me Warm' video that the comments were not going to be homophobic... that they would be about fat-shaming. I'm a large girl making out with somebody. I knew just that sheer fact would set people off.
I hadn't realized how much I'd relied on his scowls or his shrugs or his grudging looks of approval to help me figure something out-until they weren't there anymore. Or how I could talk to some people about a lot of things but only to him about everything. And how unbelievably valuable that was.
When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this?" He made a fist. "Why? Because a baby not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say the whole world is mine. But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned his lesson." "What lesson?" I asked. He stretched open his empty fingers. "We can take nothing with us.
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