A Quote by John Boyle O'Reilly

The brutalities of a fight with bare hands, the crushed nasal bones, maimed lips, and other disfigurements, which call for the utter abolition of boxing in the interests of humanity, at once disappear when the contestants cover their hands with large, soft-leather gloves.
Pasteur himself was absolutely fearless. Anxious to secure a sample of saliva straight from the jaws of a rabid dog, I once saw him with the glass tube held between his lips draw a few drops of the deadly saliva from the mouth of a rabid bull-dog, held on the table by two assistants, their hands protected by leather gloves.
Who has not seen that feeling born of flame Crimson the cheek at mention of a name? The rapturous touch of some divine surpriseFlash deep suffusion of celestial dyes: When hands clasped hands, and lips to lips were pressed, And the heart's secret was at once confessed?
Bare hands grip success better than kid gloves.
One of the very few reasons I had any respect for my mother when I was thirteen was because she would reach into the sink with her bare hands - bare hands - and pick up that lethal gunk and drop it into the garbage. To top that, I saw her reach into the wet garbage bag and fish around in there looking for a lost teaspoon. Bare hands - a kind of mad courage.
I don't know how my mother did it, but I had boxing gloves on my hands when I was born!
I do wear gloves for things that sting a lot or prick a lot. But I just like to feel with my hands. I find gloves cumbersome and uncomfortable and I've got tough old hands so the old cut doesn't matter.
God has chosen little nations as the vessels by which He carries His choicest wines to the lips of humanity to rejoice their hearts, to exalt their vision, to strengthen their faith, and if we had stood by when two little nations [Belgium and Serbia] were being crushed and broken by the brutal hands of barbarians, our shame would have rung down the everlasting ages.
My dad loves boxing, so he used to hold up his hands when we were little kids, and we would punch his hands, and he slowly got us little gloves, and little punching bags that he'd always hold for us.
I once fisted two babies and then used the corpses as boxing gloves to fight off the grieving parents.
As expected life isn't that sweet at all. When I came to Tokyo I thought I could achieve anything with my own two hands. It's not like that. To get something in these hands, I have to fight a horrible fight. But... there's not much time to grab the things you want with your hands. Why is that? And more importantly what is that I want?
I'm not itching for a fight. But I'm just saying when I see the other guy putting on his boxing gloves and, you know, you've got dancing around in the ring, I kind of suspect that maybe a fight's coming.
Change is not in the hands of government, not in the hands of a leader or guru, and not in the hands of the powerful or wealthy. It is in our hands: the hands of each and every one of us.
If you have a sword, and the Aielman has his bare hands, it is an even fight. If you're good.
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.
I feel that nasal spray is a wondrous medical achievement, because it is supposed to relieve nasal congestion, and by gadfrey, it relieves nasal congestion. What I'm saying is that it actually works, which is something you can say about very few other aspects of the medical establishment.
I have so many boxing gloves around my house that I would get them confused with other gloves.
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