Top Fingertips Quotes

Browse top 232 famous quotes and sayings about Fingertips by most favorite authors.

Favorite Fingertips Quotes

1. "Clouds are poems, and the most moving poems linger on the blackboard so long, written in cursive so lovely, they also exist inside our fingertips. We never really erase them at the end of the lesson."
Author: Ann Beattie
2. "I suppose you've always been amazing at this stuff?""I was born amazing" Jace stroked her cheek with the tips of his fingertips, lightly but enough to make her shiver."
Author: Cassandra Clare
3. "Women can go mad with insomnia.The sleep-deprived roam houses that have lost their familiarity. With tea mugs in hand, we wander rooms, looking on shelves for something we will recognize: a book title, a photograph, the teak-carved bird -- a souvenir from what place? A memory almost rises when our eyes rest on a painting's grey sweep of cloud, or the curve of a wooden leg in a corner. Fingertips faintly recall the raised pattern on a chair cushion, but we wonder how these things have come to be here, in this stranger's home.Lost women drift in places where time has collapsed. We look into our thoughts and hearts for what has been forgotten, for what has gone missing. What did we once care about? Whom did we love? We are emptied. We are remote. Like night lilies, we open in the dark, breathe in the shadowy world. Our soliloquies are heard by no one."
Author: Cathy Ostlere
4. "If I never see you again I will always carry youinsideoutsideon my fingertipsand at brain edgesand in centerscentersof what I am ofwhat remains."
Author: Charles Bukowski
5. "I will always carry you, inside, outside, on my fingertips, and at brain edges."
Author: Charles Bukowski
6. "You are as ordinary as spring,' he murmured. 'As powerless as sunlight.' He ran his fingertips down her neck. 'And when I touch you, I burn,' he said, making her heart stop and a flare of wild panic light inside her. He was too close; he was getting to her."
Author: Charlotte Lamb
7. "Grace: "I wanted to tell you how I felt. Why I was always so mean to you, Shane."- "Because you feel broken?"- "Completely shattered," I whisperedsoftly.Bringing his hands to my face, he leaned over me, lightly stroking my cheeks with his fingertips. - "Then let me in, because I promise you, I will pick up every little broken piece of you, every single fucking piece, Grace, and for therest of my fucking life I will put you back together...I'll make you whole again."
Author: Christine Zolendz
8. "You're a huge sucking asshole," Livia agreed. "You have everything at your fingertips. You're healthy, smart, fun, and highly fashionable. But instead you're buying problems you don't even want. Let the death of at least one and maybe two scumbags have a little meaning. Be the real you. Follow your beautiful heart."
Author: Debra Anastasia
9. "Shh, kitten," he whispered in English once more, nuzzling her temple, mouth open and hot against her ear. "Trust me." His palms curved beneath her breasts, lifting them as his blunt fingertips tweaked her nipples expertly enough to have slickness gathering between her clenched thighs. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever touched. Une ange, bébé." Hegroaned quietly as he caught her earlobe between his teeth. "Je t'adore," he muttered, thrusting against her backside."
Author: Edie Harris
10. "Open the book. (The gilt rubs off the edges of the pages and pollinates the fingertips.)"
Author: Elizabeth Bishop
11. "If You KnewWhat if you knew you'd be the lastto touch someone?If you were taking tickets, for example,at the theater, tearing them,giving back the ragged stubs,you might take care to touch that palmbrush your fingertipsalong the lifeline's crease.When a man pulls his wheeled suitcasetoo slowly through the airport, whenthe car in front of me doesn't signal,when the clerk at the pharmacywon't say thank you, I don't rememberthey're going to die.A friend told me she'd been with her aunt.They'd just had lunch and the waiter,a young gay man with plum black eyes,joked as he served the coffee, kissedher aunt's powdered cheek when they left.Then they walked half a block and her auntdropped dead on the sidewalk.How close does the dragon's spumehave to come? How wide does the crackin heaven have to split?What would people look likeif we could see them as they are,soaked in honey, stung and swollen,reckless, pinned against time?"
Author: Ellen Bass
12. "The past is a presence between us. In all my mother does and says, the past continually discloses itself in the smallest ways. She sees it directly; I see its shadow. Still, it pulses in my fingertips, feeds on my consciousness. It is a backdrop for each act, each drama of our lives. I have absorbed a sense of what she has suffered, what she has lost, even what her mother endured and handed down. It is my emotional gene map."
Author: Fern Schumer Chapman
13. "My hand reaches for his eye. He does not pull away but breathes into my touch. His normal lid drifts closed, and beneath my fingertips the distended one throbs, as if the eye below is straining to see. In his heart there is a girl; she is me. No contract keeps her; she goes with him, she goes alone, precipice to precipice, on every ledge agreeing again to leap. She is with him, she has been with him, every minute. No one can know what we know. Just us. If you listen, you can hear it. In the wide sound of the rain-us."
Author: Hilary Thayer Hamann
14. "I can hold you up with one hand, but you can balance me on your fingertips."
Author: Jeanette Winterson
15. "She slipped Glenn into her bed and then her face hung over Glenn's for one quiet moment, like a moon."Meera doe branagh, Glennora Morgan."The strange words drifted down from her mother's lips, whispered as light as falling snow."What does it mean, Mommy?"Fingertips grazed Glenn's cheek. "It means I love you. It means I'll always love you." She kissed Glenn softly on the forehead, then backed away. "No matter what."She stepped into the bright hallway and closed the door.When Glenn woke the next morning, her mother was gone"
Author: Jeff Hirsch
16. "Serenity. Now you could wish for that, naming no conditions: a permanent inner vacation, escape made good. To somehow have this motionlessness that he drew in with the sweet air he inhaled for his inward weather always.But there were problems too with wishing for moral qualities, serenity, large-mindedness. The interdiction (which Pierce thought obvious) against wishing for such things as artistic abilities -- sit down at the piano, the Appassionata flows suddenly from your fingertips -- applied in a way to wisdom too, to enlightenment, to heart-knowledge, useless unless earned, the earning of it being no doubt all that it consisted of."
Author: John Crowley
17. "...take off your sweater in the darkness and static flares as a tiny lightning storm - I am the same at the end of your fingertips ..."
Author: John Geddes
18. "Behind the harrows, the long seeders—twelve curved iron penes erected in the foundry, orgasms set by gears, raping methodically, raping without passion. The driver sat in his iron seat and he was proud of the straight lines he did not will, proud of the tractor he did not own or love, proud of the power he could not control. And when that crop grew, and was harvested, no man had crumbled a hot clod in his fingers and let the earth sift past his fingertips. No man had touched the seed, or lustedfor the growth. Men ate what they had not raised, had no connection with the bread. The land bore under iron, and under iron gradually died; for it was not loved or hated, it had no prayers or curses."
Author: John Steinbeck
19. "Nick laughed and gave in to the urge to brush Perry's fair hair out of his eyes -- his fingertips sensitive to the silky texture of eyebrows and hair, warm skin, eyelashes.Perry's lashes fluttered down, concealing his eyes."Hey," Nick said huskily.Perry gave him an uncertain look.It was a mistake, of course. A huge mistake. But suddenly, urgently Nick wanted to taste Perry's mouth, so he bent his head. Perry's eyes widened, then their faces bumped, and his mouth found Perry's.It was a gentle kiss, because Nick was thinking what a stupid thing this was to do, and that Perry, being inexperienced, would probably expect songbirds and firecrackers.Perry tasted like hot chocolate and something warm and young and male. It was unexpectedly erotic. He responded sweetly, opening right up, and Nick's heart turned over in his chest."
Author: Josh Lanyon
20. "The Trader held the ring horizontal and let the fingertips of his right hand circle over it. As he did so, he closed his eyes, murmured something to himself, and was silent again. His eyes remained closed; he did not move. "What's he doing?" whispered Walker.Soledad shrugged her shoulders. "Something terribly powerful.""Wrong." replied the Trader. "I'm concentrating on the mosquito bite on my left heel, so it will stop itching.""Oh," Walker said seriously."Mosquito bite?" Soledad repeated."I can't catch ghosts if my foot is itching. I beg you for a little more understanding.""But of course," Walker said spitefully."
Author: Kai Meyer
21. "And finally it seemed autumn had realized it was September. The last lingering days of summer had been pushed off stage and in the hidden garden long shadows stretched towards winter. The ground was littered with spent leaves, orange and pale green, and chestnuts on spiky coats sat proudly on the fingertips of cold branches."
Author: Kate Morton
22. "Her fingertips reached to trace the damage, but he grasped her hand with his own. He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes."
Author: Kelly Creagh
23. "She reached up to place her fingertips to his lips as she stared up at him with a warm, tender expression. "I wish you had come home to me so that I could have helped you."He pulled the cloth away from her face and stared at her for a hard second. "Had I known what was waiting for me, my lady, I would have."-Christian and Adara"
Author: Kinley MacGregor
24. "I love bookshelves, and stacks of books, spines, typography, and the feel of pages between my fingertips. I love bookmarks, and old bindings, and stars in margins next to beautiful passages. I love exuberant underlinings that recall to me a swoon of language-love from a long-ago reading, something I hoped to remember. I love book plates, and inscriptions in gifts from loved ones, I love author signatures, and I love books sitting around reminding me of them, being present in my life, being. I love books. Not just for what they contain. I love them as objects too, as ever-present reminders of what they contain, and because they are beautiful. They are one of my favorite things in life, really at the tiptop of the list, easily my favorite inanimate things in existence, and ... I am just not cottoning on to this idea of making them ... not exist anymore. Making them cease to take up space in the world, in my life? No, please do not take away the physical reality of my books."
Author: Laini Taylor
25. "Ian!" she cried, afraid to believe it. "I don't want you to ever regret that you married me."He smiled, and his fingertips caressed her cheeks. "Regret it? How could I?" You are my passionateItalian wife. You are the woman who is going to give me children and whose bed I intend to sleep inevery night. You're the reason I'll wake up every morning with a smile on my face. I love you, I will be inlove with you every day of my life, and the only day I'm leaving you is the day they put me in the ground."
Author: Laura Lee Guhrke
26. "I just love the smell of an old book store and the feel of the crisp pages along my fingertips."
Author: Leah Spiegel
27. "He was struck by the details of the moment. This was something he needed to remember, when he dreamt. This feeling right here: heart thudding, pollen sticky on his fingertips, July pricking sweat at his breastbone, the smell of gasoline and someone else's charcoal grill."
Author: Maggie Stiefvater
28. "Our fingers unlace so slowly that I am certain some part of me has been left behind on her fingertips."
Author: Mary E. Pearson
29. "TEACHERLet us begin. Repeat after me. I would like --STUDENTI wud like --TEACHERTo feed your fingertips --STUDENTTo feed yur fingerteeps --TEACHERTo the wolverines."
Author: Michael O'Donoghue
30. "I trace my fingers around the edge of the scar on his neck. My mark. My fingertips tingle and my palm becomes hot. I like how that feels. 'You haven't killed me,' I say into his throat. 'Not yet."
Author: Nikki Rae
31. "Moving on was always the end plan.New York,he remembered, was a fair distance away.It should be far enough. As for tonight, he was going to have a shot of whiskey in his tea to help smooth out the edges. Then by God, he was going to sleep if he had to bash himself over the head to accpmplish it.And he wasn't going to give Keeley another thought.The knock on the door had him cursing under his breath.Though she'd been doing well,his first worry was that the mare with bronchitis had taken a bad turn.He was already reaching for the boots he'd shed when he called out."Come in,it's open.Is it Lucy then?""No,it's Keeley." One brow lifted, she stood framed in the door. "But if you're expecting Lucy,I can go."The boots dangled from his fingertips, and those fingertips had gone numb. "Lucy's a horse," he managed to say. "She doesn't often come knocking on my door."
Author: Nora Roberts
32. "This, he said, touching his chest lightly with his fingertips, 'you must cease to love. We must love with our immortal souls which have no father save God Almighty.' He took my hand again. 'John Boreman has my Bible; I'd like you to have it. Study it well, Jenny, for the truth is there, and the truth shall make you free, so that when the time comes, as it will, as it must, when the old things are done away with, you will be ready. The seed is planted, soon there will be a great harvest. I and those like me will not have died in vain.Walter RanconNorah Lofts"
Author: Norah Lofts
33. "He put his fingertips against her forehead."You must be at least this tall to ride The Beast.""Secure your belongings and keepy your arms and legs around the ride at all times."
Author: Olivia Cunning
34. "As a little girl she had liked looking at her palms against the light, the red peeking through her closed fingers. Once she had shown it to her father and he had kissed her fingertips, pretending to eat them."
Author: Paolo Giordano
35. "Whenever I smelled the same perfume on other women, no matter where I was, I was instantly transported back to that feeling of discovery. The sensation of fingertips against old paper, whose surface was powdery and fragile, like the membrane of a moth's wing."
Author: Reif Larsen
36. "Didn't need to see your aura." He tapped my forehead. "You get a cute little frown there whenyou've got something bothering you.""Not everything about me is cute.""That's true. Some things are cute. The rest are sexy." His voice was low as he leaned towardme. "So amazingly, agonizingly sexy that it's a wonder I can get anything done when all I ever thinkabout is the taste of your lips and the touch of your fingertips on my skin and the way your legs feelwhen I—""Adrian," I interrupted.His eyes smoldered. "Yes?""Shut up."
Author: Richelle Mead
37. "I touched the combination lock. I concentrated so hard I felt like I was dead-lifting five hundred pounds. My pulse quickening. A line of sweat trickled down my nose. Finally I felt gears turning. Metal groaned, tumblers clicked, and the bolts popped back. Carefully avoiding the handle, I pried open the door with my fingertips and extracted an unbroken vial of green liquid.Hal exhaled.Thalia kissed me on the cheek, which she probably shouldn't haven't done while I was holding a tube of deadly poison."You are so good," she said.Did that make the risk worth? Yeah, pretty much."
Author: Rick Riordan
38. "The prayer that prevails is not the work of lips and fingertips. It is the cry of a broken heart and the travail of a stricken soul."
Author: Samuel Chadwick
39. "Times like this were special. Memory builders. When something extraordinary happened to a person the kind of things remembered forever after it didn't have to be a life-changing event like a graduation or marriage or birth of a child. It more often was the small things. The sheer joy of summer sunlight on a fragrant flower. The giggle of a toddler. The brush of a lover's fingertips. And the person marks the moment with the flashing insight thinking... This is special. I should remember this"
Author: Sandra Hill
40. "Celaena," Chaol said gently. And then she heard the scraping noise as his hand came into view, sliding across the flagstones. His fingertips stopped just at the edge of the white line. "Celaena," he breathed, his voice laced with pain--and hope. This was all she had left--his outstretched hand, and the promise of hope, of something better waiting on the other side of the line."
Author: Sarah J. Maas
41. "Who Am I? I'm a creator, a visionary, a poet. I approach the world with the eyes of an artist, the ears of a musician, and the soul of a writer. I see rainbows where others see only rain, and possibilities when others see only problems. I love spring flowers, summer's heat on my body, and the beauty of the dying leaves in the fall. Classical music, art museums, and ballet are sources of inspiration, as well as blues music and dim cafes. I love to write; words flow easily from my fingertips, and my heart beats rapidly with excitement as an idea becomes a reality on the paper in front of me. I smile often, laugh easily, and I weep at pain and cruelty. I'm a learner and a seeker of knowledge, and I try to take my readers along on my journey. I am passionate about what I do. I learned to dream through reading, learned to create dreams through writing, and learned to develop dreamers through teaching. I shall always be a dreamer. Come dream with me."
Author: Sharon M. Draper
42. "Violence always came too easy to you, that's the problem. It always felt too good. Remember the first time you trod on an ant, and with an infant stamp made the moving still, the present past? Wasn't that a sickly sweet epiphany? Such power in your feet and at your fingertips such temptation! It would take some act of charity to give all that good stuff away. You'd need to be something greater that just another invention of a spiteful god."
Author: Stephen Kelman
43. "He had written in cheap ballpoint ink that had blotted the five pages in many places. His handwriting was a looping but legible scrawl, and ha must have been bearing down hard, because the words were actually engraved into the cheap notebook pages; if I'd closed my eyes and run my fingertips over the backs of those torn-out sheets, it would have been like reading Braille"
Author: Stephen King
44. "Reporters can't douse flames or soothe burns. They have no control over the horrors they witness. But if they can overcome fear and physical obstacles and wrestle the monster to the page before the sun comes up, it's a victory -- not just for the newspaper staff but for all those sleeping soundly who will find the facts at their fingertips and all those victims whose suffering won't go unnoticed."
Author: Sue Merrell
45. "You don't even like me, remember?" That's what I try to say. What actually comes out of my mouth is closer to a baby's first attempt at babbling. "Shh." He runs his fingertips along my cheek, caressing my face. "Hush. I'm right here." He looks at me with deep anguish in his eyes. Like there's so much he wants to tell me but feel it's too late now. I want to stroke his face and tell him that it will be okay. That everything will be all right. And I wish so badly that it would be."
Author: Susan Ee
46. "The girls I dream of are the gentle ones, wistful by high windows or singing sweet old songs at a piano, long hair drifting, tender as apple blossom. But a girl who goes into battle beside you and keeps your back is a different thing, a thing to make you shiver. Think of the first time you slept with someone, or the first time you fell in love: that blinding explosion that left you cracking to the fingertips with electricity, initiated and transformed. I tell you that was nothing, nothing at all, beside the power of putting your lives, simply and daily, into each other's hands."
Author: Tana French
47. "Eventually, a governess realized I needed spectacles. When I first put them on my face, I can't even tell you . . . it was like a miracle." "Finally seeing properly?""Knowing I wasn't hopeless." A knot formed in her throat. "I'd believed there was something incurably wrong with me, you see. But suddenly, I could see the world clear. And not only the parts in the distance, but the bits within my own reach. I could focus on a page. I could explore the things around me, discover whole worlds beneath my fingertips. I could be good at something, for once."
Author: Tessa Dare
48. "Tiff needed the words on the page to become the voice in her head, her own voice, or an approximation of it, and she needed the paper and the sound of the scratch of her chapped fingertips against it as she fiddled with each page."
Author: Timothy Schaffert
49. "Please bring strange things.Please come bringing new things.Let very old things come into your hands.Let what you do not know come into your eyes.Let desert sand harden your feet.Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.Let the paths of your fingertips be your mapsAnd the ways you go be the lines of your palms.Let there be deep snow in your inbreathingAnd your outbreath be the shining of ice.May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.May your soul be at home where there are no houses.Walk carefully, well-loved one,Walk mindfully, well-loved one,Walk fearlessly, well-loved one.Return with us, return to us,Be always coming home.---Ursula K. Leguin"
Author: Ursula K. Le Guin
50. "You must make a choice," the Goddess said."Is that my only choice – to choose between men?" I asked. "I want what Mother had!""Your mother chose two men," she said with light laughter."No! She chose independence for her country. She chose power and freedom," I yelled.Almost as if in response, a pulsating energy moved up from the ground into my bare feet. It thrummed up my body and radiated out in a bright light, first from my toes, then from my fingertips, then the top of my head."I choose power," I said. "I choose freedom."
Author: Vicky Alvear Shecter

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We didn't really have to take everything so seriously, did we?"
Author: Ayn Rand

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