A Quote by Steve Nash
I lick my fingers because I don't like when my hands get slick. Licking my fingers helps me keep a good grip on the ball.
Related Quotes
I ain't learn everything yet at 95. But I got good fingers, that's one thing, I got good fingers. If it weren't for them fingers I wouldn't be going now.
Get a book, so you know where to put your fingers. Otherwise it would be tough to learn. Also you have to fight through getting callouses on your fingers because it hurts, you are pressing your fingers on metal strings, they will hurt at first until you start building up callouses.
Something in the movement of fingers on the keyboard enhances thought. Fingers pull your thoughts forward. Fingers are in some way an extension of your brain, with a lot of cortex associations at their trigger. Get them going!
She could've looked at the tiny miracles in front of her: my feet, my hands, my fingers, the shape of my shoulders beneath my jacket, my human body, but she only stared at my eyes. The wind whipped again, through the trees, but it had no force, no power over me. The cold bit at my fingers, but they stayed fingers. "Grace," I said, very softly. "Say something." "Sam," she said, and I crushed her to me.
Unfortunately, I used to play in goal, and I broke my hand. Two fingers. The ball hit me and bent my fingers back. I used to play every Sunday. I was quite competitive.
My fingers traced the melody on an invisible keyboard—my usual way to connect with the music, to feel its emotions on my fingertips. I touched the keys softly, as if gliding my hands through water, but the musical notes kept slipping between my fingers like bubbles, waltzing away in the blue radiance.
Work your fingers to the bone and what do you get? Boney fingers.
I use a ball pen because fountain pens are clumsy, and I get ink all over my fingers by the time I finish with it.
I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep." I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.
My only problem is the fear that opposition bowlers might go for my fingers and that's why I was scared of the short ball. Now I am struggling with the ball pitching up and swinging away. I just keep nicking that one.
One thing nobody knows about me is that three of my fingers are edible, but I cant tell you which fingers.
To have hands, to have fingers, is weird. Real life is weird, to have fingers?
A lot of blues guitarists play with only three fingers, and they can't figure out certain runs that require the use of their little fingers. Classical training is good for that.
I look down at our linked fingers as I loosen my grasp, but he regains his grip on me. “No, don’t let go of me,” he says.
I live to feel her fingers move inside of me like this. The bus makes another stop. A fat man climbs aboard, hauling himself up the stairs. I would kill him for one more moment with her fingers inside me. I don’t have to. She gives me my moment for free. He lives because of her generosity. We all live because of her generosity.
Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.
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