A Quote by Sitting Bull

As individual fingers we can easily be broken, but all together we make a mighty fist. — © Sitting Bull
As individual fingers we can easily be broken, but all together we make a mighty fist.
The black fist is a meaningless symbol. When you open it, you have nothing but fingers - weak, empty fingers. The only time the black fist has significance is when there's money inside. There's where the power lies.
In order to land a punch, you need to bring your fingers together into a fist. We need to join all of our forces together. That is the only way that we can win.
A basketball team is like the five fingers on your hand. If you can get them all together, you have a fist. That's how I want you to play.
My passions were all gathered together like fingers that made a fist. Drive is considered aggression today; I knew it then as purpose.
The link between intimate violence in the home and the international violence of terrorism and war is as tightly bound together as the fingers of a clenched fist.
You take five fingers. Individually, I can pin any one of them, but if I pin them together (makes a fist), it's damn near impossible to turn this around.
God really does have a plan for every child that He knits together, even when they look broken to the world outside, when their story is broken, when their hearts are broken, when their bodies are broken. God still knit this child together with a plan.
A team is a fist-not five fingers.
A fist is more than the sum of its fingers.
When giving, praying, and fasting are practiced together in the life of a believer, it creates a type of threefold cord that is not easily broken.
I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
An ant can't make a revolution, but a monkey can do; because it owns a fist! No real revolution is ever possible without fist.
Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates. Broken dishes, broken parts, streets are filled with broken hearts.
In this place of gracious uncertainty, we wait. For the broken places to be brought back together. For the meaning of our suffering to be revealed in his. For the righteous reign of a mighty God, whose goodness we will spend all eternity celebrating. We wait - with open, expectant hearts.
Her little fists pummeled at him, and he accepted the abuse. Until he realized she’d made an improper fist and was actually hurting herself. He wound an arm around her waist, spun her and slammed her into the hard line of his body to still her. “Let me go!” “In a minute.” As she struggled, he pulled her thumb out from beneath her fingers and rearranged her fist. “Hit like this.” Done, he released her.
What on earth can you do on this earth but catch at whatever comes near you, with both your fingers, until your fingers are broken?
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