Palms Quotes - Page 6

There is not a physicist in the world who can perceive when a parlor magician palms off playing-cards.

Charles Fort

World, Cards, Parlor Games

Charles Fort (2014). “New Lands”, p.60, Baen Publishing Enterprises

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As the palm-tree standeth so straight and so tall, The more the hail beats, and the more the rains fall.

Simon Dach

Rain, Fall, Tree

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Los Angeles, the sun shines a lot, and it's blue, and there's palm trees; it's a bit like Sydney, I guess, but the underbelly is a vicious, mean, cruel, awful place.

Loudon Wainwright III

Mean, Blue, Shining

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The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clopping of shod hooves on pavement brings on the ancient shudder, the dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of stomach high up under the rib cage.

John Steinbeck

Eye, Sound, Ribs

John Steinbeck (1980). “Travels with Charley in Search of America”, p.8, Penguin

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Excuse me?" I said, palms down on the Formica tabletop. "Coffee? I thought we came here for pie." "I don't eat the kind of pie they serve here." I felt a flash of heat go through my stomach. I knew firsthand the kind of pie Ranger liked.

Janet Evanovich

Coffee, Pie, Heat

Janet Evanovich (2008). “To the Nines”, p.125, Macmillan

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Because he sounded so lost-the Eric I knew had never been one to do anything other than assume others should serve him-I patted around under the covers for his hand. When I found it, I slid my own over it. His palm was turned up to meet my palm, and his fingers clasped mine. And though I would not have thought it possible to go to sleep holding hands with a vampire, that's exactly what I did.

Charlaine Harris

Sleep, Hands, Vampire

Charlaine Harris (2009). “Dead To The World: A True Blood Novel”, p.23, Hachette UK

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My Papa's Waltz: The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.

Theodore Roethke

Mother, Boys, Hands

Theodore Roethke (2011). “The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke”, p.83, Anchor

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You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.

J.R. Ward

Fall, Rain, Eye

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You never know!” Neith snapped. “The point is, I’ll survive the apocalypse. I can live off the land!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Did you know the palm tree has six different edible parts?” “Um—” “And I’ll never be bored,” Neith continued, “since I’m also the goddess of weaving. I have enough twine for a millennium of macramé!” I had no reply, as I wasn’t sure what macramé was.

Rick Riordan

Land, Bored, Tree

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Mickey Cray had been out of work ever since a dead iguana fell from a palm tree and hit him on the head.

Carl Hiaasen

Iguanas, Tree, Mickey

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V rolled the Aquafina bottle between his palms. "How long have you wanted to ask me the question? About the gay thing." "For a while." "Afraid of what I'd say?" "Nope, because it doesn't matter to me one way or the other. I'm tight with you whether you like males or females or both." V looked into his best friend's eyes and realized… yeah, Butch wasn't going to judge him. They were cool no matter what. With a curse, V rubbed the center of his chest and blinked. He never cried but he felt as if he could at this moment.

J.R. Ward

Eye, Gay, Judging

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Diogenes carried a bowl with him for years, but one day saw a man drinking from his cupped palm and declared, ‘I have been a fool, burdened all these years by the weight of a bowl when a perfectly good vessel lay at the end of my wrist.

Christopher Moore

Drinking, Men, Perfectly Good

Christopher Moore (2009). “Lamb: A Novel”, p.193, Hachette UK

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I flexed my wrist, popped a silver needle into my palm, and offered it to him. 'What's this?' 'A needle.' 'What should I do with it?' He'd walked right into it. Too easy. 'Please use it to pop your head. It's obscuring my view of the room.' - Kate & Saiman

Ilona Andrews

Views, Use, Rooms

Ilona Andrews (2009). “Magic Strikes”, p.57, Penguin

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Take from my palms, to soothe your heart, a little honey, a little sun, in obedience to Persephone's bees. You can't untie a boat that was never moored, nor hear a shadow in its furs, nor move through thick life without fear. For us, all that's left is kisses tattered as the little bees that die when they leave the hive. Deep in the transparent night they're still humming, at home in the dark wood on the mountain, in the mint and lungwort and the past. But lay to your heart my rough gift, this unlovely dry necklace of dead bees that once made a sun out of honey.

Osip Mandelstam

Moving, Home, Heart

24 Copy quote
He has, He reminds us, "graven thee upon the palms of my hands" (1 Nephi 21:16). Considering the incomprehensible cost of the Crucifixion, Christ is not going to turn His back on us now.

Jeffrey R. Holland

Hands, Cost, Christ

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You're a sword not a palm tree

Brandon Sanderson

Tree, Palm Trees

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Lucy swayed in shock. A gust of wind moaned through the conservatory and blew out all but one of her candles. Simon must have done this. He’d destroyed his fairyland conservatory. Why? She sank to her knees, huddled on the cold floor, her one remaining flame cradled in her numb palms. She’d seen how tenderly Simon had cared for his plants. Remembered the look of pride when she’d first discovered the dome and fountain. For him to have smashed all this . . . He must have lost hope. All hope.

Elizabeth Hoyt

Pride, Flames, Wind

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Will’s voice dropped. “Everyone makes mistakes, Jem.” “Yes,” said Jem. “You just make more of them than most people.” “I —” “You hurt everyone,” said Jem. “Everyone whose life you touch.” “Not you,” Will whispered. “I hurt everyone but you. I never meant to hurt you.” Jem put his hands up, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Will —” “You can’t never forgive me,” Will said in disbelief, hearing the panic tinging his own voice. “I’d be —” “Alone?” Jem lowered his hand, but he was smiling now, crookedly. “And whose fault is that?

Cassandra Clare

Hurt, Mistake, Eye

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We stand there, quiet. My questions all seem wrong: How did you get so old? Was it all at once, in a day, or did you peter out bit by bit? When did you stop having parties? Did everyone else get old too, or was it just you? Are other people still here, hiding in the palm trees or holding their breath underwater? When did you last swim your laps? Do your bones hurt? Did you know this was coming and hide that you knew, or did it ambush you from behind?

Jennifer Egan

Hurt, Party, People

Jennifer Egan (2010). “A Visit from the Goon Squad”, p.65, Anchor

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Sadie, I can't intervene." He turned up his palms in frustration. "I told you when we first met, this isn't an actual physical body." "Shame," I mumbled. "What?" "Nothing. Go on.

Rick Riordan

Frustration, Goes On, Body

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The Lady Amalthea beckoned, and the cat wriggled all over, like a dog, but he would not come near... She was offering her open palm to the crook-eared cat, but he stayed where he was, shivering with the desire to go to her"...[later, Molly asked the cat] "Why were you afraid to let her touch you? I saw you. You were afraid of her." "If she had touched me," he said very softly, "I would have been hers and not my own, not ever again. I wanted her to touch me but I could not let her. No cat will... The price is more than a cat can pay.

Peter S. Beagle

Dog, Cat, Offering

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For all your talk, you don't know the first thing about love." Tears spilled over her lashes and rolled down her cheeks. She slipped the chain that held his Super Bowl ring over her head and pressed it into his palm. "I love you, Bobby Tom, and I'll love you till the day I die. But I've never been for sale. I was a free offering all along.

Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Love You, Offering, Tears

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I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice. 'If you could change one thing, what would it be?' He pulled the sheep pendant from his pocket. A question filled his eyes. I held out my hand. Riley placed it in my palm and I curled my finger around the necklace, pressing the metal into my skin.

Maria V. Snyder

Eye, Sheep, Hands

Maria V. Snyder (2012). “Inside: Inside Out\Outside In”, p.499, Harlequin

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Gently, I ran my hand across his chest, exploring it. My breath felt tight in my throat. He was so beautiful. His muscles were toned, defined, his skin warm and smooth. Stroking my palm up over the line of his collarbone, I felt the firmness of his shoulder, the strength of his bicep. I traced my fingers over the black AK, following the lines of the letters. Alex hardly moved as I touched him, his eyes never leaving me. Finally I sighed and dropped my hand. I tried to smile. "I've sort of been wanting to do that ever since that first night in the motel room," I admitted.

L.A. Weatherly

Beautiful, Eye, Night

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in the last month or so, i have read the great gatsby and a separate peace. i am starting to see a real trend in the kind of books bill gives me to read. and just like the tape of songs, it is amazing to hold each of them in the palm of my hand. they are all my favorites. all of them.

Stephen Chbosky

Song, Real, Book

Stephen Chbosky (2013). “The Perks of Being a Wallflower YA edition”, p.64, Simon and Schuster

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