A Quote by Veronica Roth
I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.
Related Quotes
You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you're wrong." He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin. "My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe.
Sean takes my ponytail in his hand, his fingers touching my neck, and then he tucks my hair into my collar out of the reach of the wind. He avoids my gaze. Then he links his arm back around me and pushes his calf into Corr's side.
Sam reached his hand toward mine and I automatically put my fingers in his. With a guilty little smile he pulled my hand toward his nose and took a sniff and then another one. His smile widened though it was still shy. It was absolutely adorable and my breath got caught somewhere in my throat.
He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife?
Sam reached his hand toward mine and I automatically put my fingers in his.
He wound the scarf around his fingers until her hand was hanging in the space between them. Then he slid the silk and his fingers into her open palm. And Eleanor disintegrated.
“Time-out,” I said... He twisted his hand around and wound his fingers into mine. “You‘re putting me in time-out?” “Yes,” I said as a shaky sigh slid through my lips. “If I don't go, do I get a spanking?”
He bent, lips coming to mine and — 'Derek? Chloe?' It was Kit, opening the back door. Derek let out a low growl. 'Never fails.' I turned to Kit. 'How is she?' 'We’re going to take her back to the house now. She’s unconscious again.' 'Then we’ll walk back,' Derek said. 'Give you room in the van to lay her down.' His dad agreed and went back inside. As we walked toward the steps, I looked down at Derek’s hand, holding mine. 'No one’s around,' he said. 'And we can take the back way.' 'Good,' I said, and entwined my fingers with his.
Lucas should've run out of there that instant. Instead he stared at me through the glass and slowly unfolded his hand opposite mine so that our hands were pressed againts the pane of glass, fingers to fingers, palm to palm. We each move closer, so that our faces were only inches apart. Even with the stained glass, window between us, it felt as intimate as any kiss we'd shared.
Evie? Evie! Ouch!" Jack yanked his hand out of mine,shaking it and glaring at me. "I need these fingers later.
She thought: at this moment, the glass stem between his fingers feels just like the one between mine. We have this much in common.
He who puts out his hand to stop the wheel of history will have his fingers crushed.
I used to go and do some sitting in with Robert Nighthawk when he were playing at the 708 Club in Chicago. He was a tremendous slideman. I never saw him do anything other than play the slide. I never just saw him just use his hand. He always used a slide. He had a little-bitty drummer we called "Shorty". He was about that high [hand gesture]. And he was his drummer. That's all he had was a slide guitar and a drummer.
Personality is that which is most intimate to me—that by which I must act out my life. It is that by which I belong to man, that by which I amable to reach after God; and He has given to me this pearl of great price. It is an immortal treasure; it is mine, it is His, and no man shall pluck it out of His hand.
The urge at that moment to reach across and touch Willow--to link his fingers through hers as she rested her hand on her thigh, or stroke her bright hair back from her temple--was almost overpowering. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Yep, definitely time for a coffee break," he said, closing his eyes. "You see right through me.
I let my head fall forward into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Now what do we do?" He's quiet for a while and I finally lean back to look him in the eyes. He appears conflicted by something and then he sets me down on the ground, lacing his fingers through mine. "Should we see where the wind takes us?" he asks. I stare at my hand in his and then look up at him. "That sounds good to me.
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