touching

Plains watch the mountains and mountains watch the plains. Through looks, everything touches everything, even though they have many kilometers or even light years between them!

We touch people mostly without touching them: We touch them with our words, with our smile, with our eyes, with our courage, with our madness, with millions of different ways! What are we? We are contacting beings without contacting!

You can't plan someone else's future, and I fully plan to become someone else.

I have sometimes wondered why Jesus so frequently touched the people he healed, many of whom must have been unattractive, obviously diseased, unsanitary, smelly. With his power, he easily could have waved a magic wand. In fact, a wand would have reached more people than a touch. He could have divided the crowd into affinity groups and organized his miracles--paralyzed people over there, feverish people here, people with leprosy there--raising his hands to heal each group efficiently, en masse. But he chose not to. Jesus' mission was not chiefly a crusade against disease (if so, why did he leave so many unhealed in the world and tell followers to hush up details of healings?), but rather a ministry to individual people, some of whom happened to have a disease. He wanted those people, one by one, to feel his love and warmth and his full identification with them. Jesus knew he could not readily demonstrate love to a crowd, for love usually involves touching.

The other mammoths were as protective of the dying as they were of newborns, and they gathered around tying to make the fallen one get up. When all was over, they buried the dead ancestor under piles of dirt, grass, leaves, or snow. Mammoths were even known to bury other dead animals, including humans.

Don't hate me forever, Arty," whispered Holly. "I couldn't bear that.

If I am not touching a life, I am not touching life.

I reached up to touch his mask. It was so cold, despite how flushed his skin was just beyond it. My hand shook, and my breathing became shallow as I grazed the skin of his jaw. It was smooth__nd hot.He wet his lips, his breathing as uneven as my own. His fingers contracted against the plane of my lower back, and I let him tug me closer to him__ntil our bodies were touching, and the warmth of him seeped into me.I had to tilt my head back to see his face. His mouth was caught somewhere between a smile and a wince.__hat?_ I asked, and put a hand on his chest, preparing to shove myself back. But his other hand slipped under my hair, resting at the base of my neck.____ thinking I might kiss you,_ he said quietly, intently.__hen do it._ I blushed at my own boldness.But Tamlin only gave that breathy laugh, and leaned in.His lips brushed mine__esting, soft and warm. He pulled back a little. He was still staring at me, and I stared right back as he kissed me again, harder, but nothing like the way he__ kissed my neck. He withdrew more fully this time and watched me.__hat__ it?_ I demanded, and he laughed and kissed me fiercely.My hands went around his neck, pulling him closer, crushing myself against him. His hands roved my back, playing in my hair, grasping my waist, as if he couldn__ touch enough of me at once.

She felt as wild and free as a little kid, running up the steps with Shane in hot pursuit, and when he grabbed her around the waist and spun her around into his room and kicked the door shut, she squealed in delight. And wiggled to fit herself against his warm, hard body as she kissed him again, breathless and flying.He kissed like their lives depended on it. Like it was an Olympic event and he intended to earn a medal. Somewhere in the back of her head she was chattering to herself, warning that this was going to go too far, that she was just making things worse for both of them, but she couldn't help it. Before long they were stretched out together on Shane's bed, and his big, warm hands were teasing under the hem of her shirt, stroking the fluttering skin of her stomach and stealing her breath. She lost it all when he spread his fingers out, pressing his palm flat against her, and she felt an almost irresistible impulse to feel those hands all over. Everywhere. Her heart was hammering hard enough to make her dizzy, and it was all just so ...Perfect.

Cupping her face, I reclaim her lips and gently guide her body next to mine on the bed. Rachel__ tank rides up and my fingers explore the satin skin of her belly. There are so many places I long to go, so many places I crave to tak

Just as we use speech and gestures to communicate, so we use touch. Words can say, __ love you_, but touch can also say how and how much, and, at the same time, __ respect you_, __ need you_, and __hank you_. For a long time, scientists somehow thought that touch served merely to emphasize a verbal message. But now it is clear even to them that touch can be the message, and that it can be more nuanced and sophisticated than either speech or gestures, and more economical to boot. What__ more, touch is a two-way street; and a person__ reaction to our touch can tell us much more than their words ever could. Finally, while words can lie, or be taken for granted, primal touch is difficult to either ignore or discount.

And I sometimes think that a moment of touching is the difference between complete utter despair and the ability to carry on.

Benedict__ hand clenched by his side, still tingling where it had touched her. He wished she__ let him do more. It was so romantic out here in the darkness; the cool breeze rustling through the trees and the moonlight showing faintly through cloud. They were completely alone and it felt like the sort of night where anything could happen. It was a pity that Tamsin didn__ seem to feel the same way.

Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.

You wanted hearts and flowers. You have my heart - & here are the flowers.

His face was glistening with cold. He was beautiful, the snow in his eyelashes like diamonds, the cool pink of his cheeks, the wet red of his lips. He was staggering toward her."I have to leave you." His breath came in uneven bursts. "You won't be safe with me."Whatever he was, he could not be bad. An amazing and terrible thought entered Valerie's mind, clearing away all others."Peter..."She stepped toward him, arms out. They gave in to each other, finally, their bodies fitting together. Her fingers warmed his cheek, and his arms slipped underneath her crimson cloak as her long blond hair blew around them. Enveloped in a shelter of white, standing out in black and red, were just the two of them. Nothing else anywhere. Valerie knew that she could never be apart from him, that she was what he was and that she would be his always.She didn't care if he was the Wolf or not. And if he was a Wolf, then she would be one, too.She made he choice and brought her lips to his.

Sophie," he said, and when she gave him a stern look, he took a hasty swig of the posset. __iss Collins. I have not yet had a chance to properly apologize to you, so let me take it now. Please forgive me for the trick I played on you with the scones. I did not mean to show you disrespect. I hope you do not imagine I think any less of you for your position in the household, for you are one of the finest and bravest ladies I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

your handtouching mine.this is howgalaxiescollide.