A Quote by Marvin Sapp

Just know He has His hands on You — © Marvin Sapp
Just know He has His hands on You

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My father spoke with his hands. He was deaf. His voice was in his hands. And his hands contained his memories.
…but Sassenach—I am the true home of your heart, and I know that.” He lifted my hands to his mouth and kissed my upturned palms, one and then the other, his breath warm and his beard-stubble soft on my fingers. “I have loved others, and I do love many, Sassenach—but you alone hold all my heart, whole in your hands,” he said softly. “And you know that.
Jimi Hendrix was just so fluid. His hands were connected to his soul, you know? His playing was just so emotional. You could feel the fire, you could feel the blues. You could feel the sadness. It's unbelievable.
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.
If you look at Keith Richards' hands, from the Rolling Stones, they're these gnarled, arthritic - it looks like people beat his hands with clubs. It's amazing there's so much character in his hands.
People would look at me weird. You know, like, 'Why is this guy's hands always in his pockets?' But I was embarrassed by the size of my hands.
Life is full of all sorts of people. You just need to know which hands to shake, which hands to hold and which hands to let go.
So it was the hand that started it all . . . His hands had been infected, and soon it would be his arms . . . His hands were ravenous.
Perhaps someone will have seen mine, the one I’m waiting for, just as I saw him, in a ditch when his hands were making their last appeal and his eyes no longer could see. Someone who will never know what that man was to me; someone whose name I’ll never know.
Ut cum spiritu postrema sacramentum dejuremus," he chanted. "Et hostes ornamenta addent ad ianuam necem." "You just...finished the prophesy,"Rachael stammered. "-An oath to keep with a final breath/And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. How did you-" "I know those lines." Jason winced and put his hands to his temples. "I don't know how, but I KNOW that prophecy." "In Latin, no less," Drew called out. "Handsome AND smart.
I'll never forget the first time I saw someone who had died. It was my grandfather. And I knelt next to his coffin. And all I could do was eye level was look at his hands. They were enormous hands. And all I could think was, 'Those hands dug freedom for me.'
What are your thoughts?' 'My thoughts?' I replied, before I even realized what I was saying. 'My thoughts created my world.' Mac sat up in his seat. He scrunched his curls with his hands, perplexed. 'Who said that?' I told him the truth. 'Oh, just someone I used to know,' I said, stroking the naked skin on my middle finger.
I am graven on the palms of His hands. I am never out of His mind. All my knowledge of Him depends on His sustained initiative in knowing me. I know Him, because He first knew me, and continues to know me. He knows me as a friend, One who loves me; and there is no moment when His eye is off me, or His attention distracted for me, and no moment, therefore, when His care falters.
When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don't know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don't know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.
Well!' said Puddleglum, rubbing his hands. 'This is just what I needed. If these chaps don't teach me to take a serious view of life, I don't know what will.
Sometimes the Goliath in front of me looks too big & impossible to defeat. Then, God puts his hands on my shoulder, hands me 3 pebbles & a sling shot and I know it'll be okay.
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