hands [Theme] Page 2
Everyone went their separate ways, carrying sadness into their hearts and hoping that parting would bring them victory.
The birthday rushed to Her with an armful of flowers, a smile and wisdom. The last one was so heavy that she thought that she wouldn’t be able to carry it away, but having pulled herself together, she managed it in a few steps... and didn’t even spill a drop...
February, February, don’t torment your soul! I already want spring warmth, sandals and red kisses of the sun on my nose. In the meantime, we wrap ourselves in fluffy sweaters, hold hands and warm ourselves with kindred spirits, close conversations eye to eye, dreams of vacations with the sea breeze and spicy aromas of new countries.
End of connection.
Quote Explanation: The true ending of the game: the director of Fazbear Entertainment, Henry Emily, returns to finish what he started and destroy all the spirits who want revenge on him, including: his former partner William Afton, William's offspring - Michael and Elizabeth, as well as Henry's daughter Charlie Emily.
My goal is noble, and my hands can be washed.
The Lord writes every book. By the hands of the author.
Quote Explanation: From the lecture “About Harry Potter”
God, help me take a small step and not get stuck in fears. Teach me how not to stop seeing the light even where there is now impenetrable darkness. Give me strength, even in the most difficult moments, to never give up. God, help me not to hide tears of pain in the depths of my soul. Cry if you cry. And laugh when he laughs. Help me keep my heart open, despite all the hardships and trials. Help me just love. God, help me let go of despondency from my heart. See everything clearly and cleanly, accepting everything as it is. Help me find peace and harmony. Living in harmony with yourself and those around you, create and create only for the Good. Guide me, please, show me the way. And do not leave me on your paths that you have intended for me. With peace and love to you. Amen.
When the morning so tenderly and touchingly kisses the sky, when the trees stretch their graceful hands to the clouds, glorifying a new bright day, when the soul dreams of something distant and beautiful, then a miracle is born, quiet and kind, then a magical winter fairy tale comes to the doorstep ...
... hands... like the wings of a butterfly, their shadows with light movements strive towards the light... dancing on the wall... getting burned... going blind... the temptation to merge is irresistible... a couple more minutes and the light will go out... Thoughts will become clearer in the evening cloudiness of words... and stricter... just a couple of minutes... let's put them aside for an eternity of circling in a carefree dance of hands...
- Well, yes, I also thought about it.
“It’s better to go for it,” Fred said firmly.
“Grab it,” he told himself, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with panic, “reach out your hand and grab it.” It was surprising how much more difficult it was to reach across the table and touch her hand than to catch a swift Snitch in flight.
The future of humanity is doomed. Having said that, I'm not going to sit idly by while we all get killed.
Nails scratched the wood and were often driven into it by the force of pure despair, and souls rushed towards me, straight into my hands, and we climbed out of those showers - onto the roof and beyond, into the safe expanse of eternity. They were supplied to me without interruption. Minute by minute. Shower after shower.
I fold my arms over my chest and gather my palms into fists, because my fingers itch, whine, and tear. They need to touch you, they - I - need to make sure that you are real, alive, material, not diagnosed to me by someone in a white coat with years of difficult study and practice.
