A Quote by Moms Mabley
Anytime you see me with my arms around an old man, I'm holding him for the police.
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Sometime years before, I had dragged an old bean bag chair to that place. I watched Zach sink onto it, and then he pulled me down to lean against him. I felt his arms go around me, holding me tight. I was safe. I was warm. I was home.
I turn around from the window and for the first time I see him... It is Richard, smiling at my surprise. I run to him, without thinking what I am doing. I run to the first friendly face that I have seen since Christmas, and in a moment I am in his arms and he is holding me tightly and kissing my face, my closed eyes, my smiling mouth, kissing me till I am breathless and have to pull away from him.
He was beside me then, his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly. "I'm not crazy," I whispered. "I know." Believe it or not, that's the most romantic thing Zachary Goode ever told me. And I kind of loved him for it.
I stand, walk over to him, sit down on his bed, put my arms around him, hug him. He hugs me back strong and I can feel the shame coming through his arms. I am a Criminal and he is a Judge and I am white and he is black, but at this moment none of that matters. He is a man who needs a friends and I can be his friend.
I suddenly remember being very little and being embraced by my father. I would try to put my arms around my father's waist, hug him back. I could never reach the whole way around the equator of his body; he was that much larger than life. Then one day, I could do it. I held him, instead of him holding me, and all I wanted at that moment was to have it back the other way.
dont be afraid", i murmured. "We belong together." I was abruptly overwhelmed by th truth of my own words. This moment was so perfect, there was no way to boubt it. His arms wrapped around me, holding me against him...It felt like every nerve ending in my body was a live wire. "Forever," he agreed.
Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he's there, holding me and patting my back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob.
I thought we had lost you. I thought we'd done something worse than let you die.' His old arms were tight and strong about me. I was kind to the old man. I did not tell him they had.
When you are old you can look back and see yourself when you are young. It is almost like looking down from heaven. And you see yourself as a young woman, just a big girl really, half awake to the world. You see yourself happy, holding in your arms a good, decent, gentle, beloved young man with the blood keen in his veins, who before long is going to disappear, just disappear, into a storm of hate and flying metal and fire. And you just don't know it.
In holding your antagonist, therefore, you should hold him lightly as if your arms were nothing but chains which connect you with him, so that you may stretch or contract them at will when necessary, and pull or push him in any direction you choose. If you pull your opponent or apply your tricks on him by putting from the beginning too much strength in your arms, then you are going to contest with him by means of your power and against the principles of Judo. In doing so, you can never expect to succeed in your contest.
Anytime you see Beyonce, Jay Z, Kanye West. Anytime a young black person's doing good, that's motivation for everybody else. Anytime, anytime, it's motivation. Use that fuel to push you forward. That's what I did.
If my tale has to revolve around a protagonist and there is action around him, I can only imagine him to be someone from the police or the Army.
I don't have time to be going back and forth with nobody.' Even now, when I work, I'm excited to go home to see my son. If I'm working, I make sure I FaceTime so many times in the day just to see him. Anytime I get frustrated or stressed, I FaceTime my son and immediately I don't even know what stress is because I'm accepting my life. When I see him, I see me.
Nicky looked down at me with a knowledge on his face that he was holding the monster in his arms. I'd have comforted him, but it would have been all lies.
There was never a man born so wise or good, but one or more companions came into the world with him, who delight in his faculty, and report it. I cannot see without awe, that no man thinks alone and no man acts alone, but the divine assessors who came up with him into life,--now under one disguise, now under another,--like a police in citizen's clothes, walk with him, step for step, through all kingdoms of time.
It sounds super cliche, but my sister is 12 years younger than me, and I remember when I was there holding her in my arms for the first time. And that kind of responsibility you feel when you hold a child in your arms.
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