A Quote by Spike Milligan

I shook hands with a friendly Arab. I still have my right arm to prove it. — © Spike Milligan
I shook hands with a friendly Arab. I still have my right arm to prove it.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. This isn’t a good idea. This isn’t right.” “There’s all kinds of right,” he murmured. “On the spectrum, we’re still in the safe zone.” ... “Definitely right. Usually right,” Patch continued. “Mostly right. Maybe right.
Something I'll always remember - when I was a kid, I shook hands with Orville Wright. Forty years later, I shook hands with Neil Armstrong. The guy that invented the airplane and the guy that walked on the moon. In a lifetime, that's kinda wild when you think about it.
I have my name Cory on my left arm, and I have my mom's name on my right with a cross. She passed away while I was still in high school, so I got that on my right arm.
Yes, I see the Mobile Base System really is the shoulder of the arm. The arm is right there, like a human arm. It's really funny to look at the similarities between a human arm and the Canadian robotics arm.
It is not in our hands to prevent the murder of workers… and families… but it is in our hands to fix a high price for our blood, so high that the Arab community and the Arab military forces will not be willing to pay it.
I once shook hands with Pat Boone and my whole right side sobered up.
I once shook hands with Pat Boone, and my whole right side sobered up!
Sometimes, when I break my hands, I kind of go too far behind my body, and what that will do, wherever my right arm's going to go, my left arm's going to go.
I have a scar on my right arm from my ex-husband. He was cooking and he had a hot pot and he turned around and went right into my arm.
He shook hands with Margaret. He knew it was the first time their hands had met, though she was perfectly unconscious of the fact.
In fact, when I shake hands with all those wonderful people at the Stratford Literary Festival, they will be shaking hands with the hand that shook the hand of Oscar Wilde.
New Yorkers aren't that friendly, but they're still pretty friendly, and they're hardworking, passionate people.
Be friendly first. Service starts with a friendly person with a friendly smile, who offers friendly words first. How friendly are you?
Faris turned on him. "Why choose to wear black today, of all days? I know why I'm in black. Why are you? Mourning? He looked startled. "One does not wear mourning for a servant." You still don't understand, do you? He was not my servant." He regarded her anger, aghast. "What then? What else could he be? Her empty hands shook as she held them out to him. Her voice shook as she replied, "Glove to my hand." Slowly she closed her fists. "Everything.
If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say in a pleasant and hopeful voice, "Well this isn't too bad, I don't have a left arm anymore but at least nobody will ever ask me if I'm left-handed or right-handed," but most of us would say something more along the lines of, "Aaaaaa! My arm! My arm!"
Jem leaned closer against the chair, staring into the fire. “Better it were my hands,” he said. Will shook his head. Exhaustion was muting the edges of everything in the room, blurring the flocked wallpaper into a single mass of dark color. “No. Not your hands. You need your hands for the violin. What do I need mine for?
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