When I was young, I had a big problem with warts. It started with one on the side of my little finger. A year later, I had it on all my fingers. My hands looked like the hands of an alligator. So I fist bumped people instead of shaking hands for a few years.
We are more often than not asked, for instance, to regard Israel and Palestine as in a conflict of this kind, a framing that sets each of them on equal footing, and implicitly analogies the political situation to a fist fight, a soccer match, or a domestic quarrel. So if, then, the only two intelligible political positions are "pro-Palestinian" or "pro-Israeli," the presumption is that one's position is determined by a sentiment that wants one side to win over the other.
My right to swing my fist ends where your nose begins.
She said she wasn't afraid of Satan, in fact, she thought he was a joke. She said she'd tear his tail off and run her fist down his throat.
Say That! is an iron fist upside the mushy head of smooth jazz, and Grant Geissman's defiant declaration of independence.
Sin is a clenched fist and a blow in the face of God.
Why do I dance? Dance is my medicine. It’s the scream which eases for a while the terrible frustration common to all human beings who because of race, creed, or color, are ‘invisible’. Dance is the fist with which I fight the sickening ignorance of prejudice.
This country will not be a peaceful place for us to live if we do not make it to be a peaceful place with our fists.
To pray with your fists closed means you're hanging onto something. Let it go. Open your hands to God.
I think we are inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say ‘we know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage’...
Money is like any other language through which people communicate. People who speak the same language tend to find each other. If you are one whose money speaks of protection and hoarding, you will find yourself involved with others whose money speaks the same language. You will be staring at each other with hooded eyes and closed fists and suspicion will be your common value. If your money speaks of sharing, you will find yourself among people who want their money to speak the language of sharing, and your world will be filled with possibility.
My art school rejection letter arrived as a cold manila fist that closed around my fragile hopes ... The fear was practically edible. Nothing would happen unless I get out and make it happen. Then, as if handling me the keys to the jet pack, my dad bought me a typewriter and a taped message to the inside of its case: "Son - the world is waiting to hear from you".
We know that inevitably the millennials will get old and tired again, and then there will be the bilennials or trilennials, or whatever the next generation is, and we're all going to end up on our lawn shaking our fists in a bathrobe yelling at the moon.
Hate gets going, it goes round, it gets older and tighter and older and tighter, until it holds a person inside it like a fist holds a stick.
It's easy, almost comforting, to dismiss Trumpism as the cry of laid-off men in rust-belt states shaking their wrinkled fists at the juggernaut of modernity.
One of the very first poems I wrote was Docker That fist would drop a hammer on a Catholic and one of the sturdiest was Requiem for the Croppies, written 50 years after 1916 [the year of the Easter Rising]. Being responsible and what it means, what it demands, have indeed preoccupied me maybe too much. But this is it, this is the thing, this is what you're up against.
Just tolerate my little fist tugging on your forest chest
Raise your hands in the air, pump your fists, and solemnly swear to rock the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
I think overseas viewers assume that Black Mirror is written by the Unabomber, essentially - a Luddite, technology-hating, angry old man waving his fist at the App Store.
I decided that I'm not going to pound my fist anymore at those folks and at laws that I can't change.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
This may sound funny, but as much as the 'Today' show matured me, it also was something of a cocoon. I'd been happy there. I never went into the boss's office and pounded my fist on the desk, saying, 'Give me more money! Give me a prime-time show!'
If I had a staff of even one person, or could tolerate a small amphetamine habit, or entertain the possibility of weekly blood transfusions, or had been married to Vera Nabokov, or had a housespouse of even minimal abilities, a literary life would be easier to bring about. (In my mind I see all your male readers rolling their eyes. But your female ones - what is that? Are they nodding in agreement? Are their fists in the air?)
So much time weeping and wailing and shaking our fists, creating enemies that really don't exist.
A fist in the face is all you deserve from love you've misplaced.
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