Wash My Hands Of You Famous Quotes & Sayings
76 Wash My Hands Of You Famous Sayings, Quotes and Quotation.
A small stream ... sings a carefree song as it runs by your house. It is so nonthreatening that you can sit by it, look at your reflection in the water, and even wash your hands in it. It is yours, your personal stream. Yet you know that it has originated in the sea and is on its way back to where it has come from. When passing by your house, however, it is yours. You can say it is a personal moment you have torn out of eternity to keep in your pocket for yourself.— Fatemeh Keshavarz
I don't think pandemics make us afraid of death, I think they make us afraid of oblivion. They force us to grapple with the futility of effort. Also they make us barf which isn't fun either ... Wash your hands, cover your coughs, and find a way to hold in balance the futility of effort with the necessity to struggle.— John Green
You Don't Know What Love Is— Kim Addonizio
But you know how to raise it in me
like a dead girl winched up from a river. How to
wash off the sludge, the stench of our past.
How to start clean. This love even sits up
and blinks; amazed, she takes a few shaky steps.
Any day now she'll try to eat solid food. She'll want
to get into the fast car, one low to the ground, and drive
to some cinderblock shithole in the desert
where she can drink and get sick and then
dance in nothing but her underwear. You know
where she's headed, you know she'll wake up
with an ache she can't locate and no money
and a terrible thirst. So to hell
with your warm hands sliding inside my shirt
and your tongue down my throat
like an oxygen tube. Cover me
in black plastic. Let the mourners through.
Before— Philip Massinger
We end our pilgrimage, 'tis fit that we
Should leave corruption, and foul sin, behind us,
But with wash'd feet and hands, the heathens dar' not
Enter their profane temples; and for me
To hope my passage to eternity
Can be made easy, till I have shook off
The burthen of my sins in free confession,
Aided with sorrow, and repentance for them,
Is against reason.
Practice good personal hygiene. Wash your hands before you eat. Be aware of good clean water and food sources.— James Wright
Yet for all that, there is nothing in me of a founder of a religion— Friedrich Nietzsche
religions are affairs of the rabble; I find it necessary to wash my hands after I have come into contact with religious people.
O wise man, wash your hands of that friend who associates with your enemies.— Saadi
I used to wash my hands every ten minutes. I couldn't step out of the house unless I had gloves on. I wouldn't smoke a cigarette unless I opened the pack myself, and I would never use another cigarette out of that pack if someone else had touched it.— Joan Crawford
I'm glad you said that, my sneaky fox, because I fell hard for you. What I mean is ... I don't think I'll ever be satisfied, not till I've stripped you down to your skivvies ... not till I've eaten you up like a cookie, from the first bite, down to the last crumb. What I mean is, that core part of you that you've stashed deep inside. Now, it's too late to pussy out and wash your hands of this, Ewon Jung.— Hajin Yoo
One hand washes the other ... both hands wash the face.— Sam Giancana
All is in the hands of man. Therefore wash them often.— Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
The contempt of money is no more a virtue than to wash one's hand is one; but one does not willingly shake hands with a man that never washes his.— Horace Walpole
The Cylon War is long over, yet we must not forget the reasons why so many sacrificed so much in the cause of freedom. The cost of wearing the uniform can be high, but...— Ronald M. Moore
[very long pause]
sometimes it's too high. You know, when we fought the Cylons, we did it to save ourselves from extinction. But we never answered the question "Why?" Why are we as a people worth saving? We still commit murder because of greed and spite, jealousy, and we still visit all of our sins upon our children. We refuse to accept the responsibility for anything that we've done, like we did with the Cylons. We decided to play God, create life. And when that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it really wasn't our fault, not really. You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore.
It's only when the settlement work has gone on for months that one realizes how bad things are. As our secretary said to me, your finger-nails never seem dirty until you wash your hands.— F Scott Fitzgerald
There was a crackle. Kobe's voice came through the cans. "What would you guys do," he said, apropos of nothing, "if Jules turned into a lizard?"— Lili Wilkinson
Another crackle. "Hey!" Jules said.
"It wouldn't happen," said Jacob, and I saw him shrug in the half-light.
"But what if?"
I pressed the talk button on my cans. "There's an old fish tank in our garage," I said. "I'd put Jules in it, and then get a heat rock from the pet shop."
I heard Sam's low chuckle. "Make sure you wash your hands first."
"Why?"
"So you don't get any lizardy diseases."
"I don't have any lizardy diseases!" Jules's voice was getting higher.
"Not yet, but wait until you're a lizard."
"What's a heat rock?" asked Jacob.
"It's a rock," I told him, "that you heat up. Lizards like them. Anyway, once I'd done that, I'd take you to see my cousin Adam."
"IS HE A WIZARD?
Apple should pull the plug on the iPhone ... What Apple risks here is its reputation as a hot company that can do no wrong. If it's smart it will call the iPhone a 'reference design' and pass it to some suckers to build with someone else's marketing budget. Then it can wash its hands of any marketplace failures ... Otherwise I'd advise people to cover their eyes. You are not going to like what you'll see.— John C. Dvorak
A man who lived on the banks of the Niger should not wash his hands with spittle.— Chinua Achebe
My two secrets to staying healthy: wash your hands all the time. And, if you can't, use Purell or one of the sanitizers. And the other is hot peppers. I eat a lot of hot peppers. I for some reason started doing that in 1992, and I swear by it.— Hillary Clinton
I wash my hands, wonder how an awful day could turn even worse. It seems like at some point you'd just run out of awful.— Kathryn Stockett
It is not a man's duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself to the eradication of any, even to most enormous wrong; he may still properly have other concerns to engage him; but it is his duty, at least, to wash his hands of it, and, if he gives it no thought longer, not to give it practically his support.— Henry David Thoreau
First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried letters from a girl named Martha, a junior at Mount Sebastian College in New Jersey. They were not love letters, but Lieutenant Cross was hoping, so he kept them folded in plastic at the bottom of his rusack. In the late afternoon, after a day's march, he would dig his foxhole, wash his hands under a canteen, unwrap the letters, hold them with the tips of his fingers, and spend the last hour of light pretending.— Tim O'Brien
I want to forget everything you told me. I want to wash away how uncertain you made me. How scared I was of losing you. How I lost you anyway. I don't want to know how your hands feel or what makes you smile. I don't want to see you in photos, familiar like a dream I had once or a book I never finished.— Gaby Dunn
The pharisees minded what God spoke, but not what He intended. They were busy in the outward work of the hand, but incurious of the affections and choice of the heart. So God was served in the letter, they did not much inquire into His purpose; and therefore they were curious to wash their hands, but cared not to purify their hearts.— Jeremy Taylor
He gave a moment's consideration to the possibility of lingering to wash his face and hands (maybe even to changing his puke-splattered shirt), but he decided to forgo cleanliness in favor of making a fast exit.— Clive Barker
Politics, according to the Social Doctrine of the Church, is one of the highest forms of charity, because it serves the common good. I cannot wash my hands, eh? We all have to give something!— Pope Francis
It is not a case of whether we want to wash our hands of Europe or want to help her to regain her feet. The troubles of Europe have been laid on our doorstep, so to speak, and will plague us, if we do nothing to cure them, whether we like it or not.— B.C. Forbes
If a mute kid swears, should his mother wash his hands with soap?— Steven Wright
I try to teach my son about sanitation, especially when handling foods like chicken that could be dangerous. I remind him to wash his hands all the time. When my son cooks with me, he stands on a step stool so he can reach the stove. I teach him about safety and fire.— Emeril Lagasse
The best thing about getting a flu shot is that you never again need to wash your hands. That's how I see it.— Chuck Palahniuk
A brick could be used to wash your hands. And after that, I'd suggest you wash out your filthy mouth. Scrub it clean, you scatological talker you.— Jarod Kintz
As I ran water to wash my hands, my earbud fell out of my ear and went down the drain.— Janet Evanovich
"Crap!"
I hauled my cellphone out of my bag and texted Ranger. Bad news. Your earbud just went down the drain in the ladies room.
It was only a matter of time, he textd back.
This time is difficult, wait for me: we will live it out vividly. Give me your small hand: we will rise and suffer, we will feel and rejoice. We are once more the pair who lived in bristling places, in harsh nests in the rock. This time is difficult, wait for me with a basket, with a shovel, with your shoes and your clothes. Now we need each other not only for the carnations' sake, not only to look for honey: we need our hands to wash with and to make fire, and so let our difficult time stand up to infinity with four hands and four eyes.— Pablo Neruda
Betelgeuse. Sirius. Orion. Antares. The sky is very large, and you are very small. Let the words wash— Diana Gabaldon
through him, the voice and its memories pass over him, shivering his skin like the touch of a ghost,
vanishing into darkness.
The Pleiades. Cassiopeia. Taurus. Heaven is wide, and you are very small. Dead, but none the less
powerful for being dead. He spread his hands wide, gripping the fence - those were powerful, too.
Enough to beat a man to death, enough to choke out a life. But even death was not enough to loose the
bands of rage.
With great effort, he let go. Turned his hands palm upward, in gesture of surrender. He reached
beyond the stars, searching. The words formed themselves quietly in his mind, by habit, so quietly he
was not aware of them until he found them echoed in a whisper on his lips.
I went back into my bedroom and knelt at my bed the way I did when I was a kid. I folded my hands and pressed the top knuckle joints of my thumbs hard into my forehead. Dear God. I don't know what I want or who I am. Apparently you do. Um ... that's great. Never mind. You have a terrible reputation here. You should know that. Oh, but I guess you do know that. Save me now. Or when it's convenient. We could run away together. This is stupid. What am I doing? I guess this is a prayer. I feel like an idiot, but I guess you knew that already, too. My sister said that god is music. Goodbye, Amen. I lay in my bed and waited for that thick, sweet feeling to wash over me, for that unreal semi-conscious state where the story begins and takes on a life of its own and all you have to do is close your eyes and give in and let go and give in and let go and go and go and go.— Miriam Toews
Blessed are those who eat greens, for they shall keep their teeth. Blessed are those who wash their hands after wiping their arses, for they shall not sicken. Blessed are those who boil water, for they shall be called saviors of mankind.— Diana Gabaldon
When you don't know what to believe, when you're not prepared to play the amateur detective, then you get tired and dismiss the entire business, you let it go, you stop thinking and wash your hands of the truth or of the whole tangled mess - which comes to the same thing. The truth is never clear, it's always a tangled mess. Even when you get to the bottom of it. But in real life almost no one needs to find the truth or devote himself to investigating anything, that only happens in puerile novels.— Javier Marias
I wash my hands of those who imagine chattering to be knowledge, silence to be ignorance, and affection to be art.— Kahlil Gibran
Behold my Love which traveled by Sudden Days. I wash away my withered cold Hands to a Warm Embrace of You, My Eternal Summer!— Kevin Dellinger
doctors & druggists wash each other's hands— Geoffrey Chaucer
You talk crazy any more and I'll leave.— Joan Didion
Leave. For Christ's sake leave.
She would not take her eyes from the dry wash. All right.
Don't, he would say then. Don't.
Why do you say those things. Why do you fight.
He would sit on the bed and put his head in his hands. To find out if you're alive.
I had my share of critics, and I wash my hands of the whole lot.— Frank Richard Stockton
It's hard to play a continuing character like Loomis for nearly 11 years and simply wash your hands of him. It seems a pity.— Donald Pleasence
I didn't bathe him because I was too afraid he would slip out of my hands or his belly button would open. Then one night I woke at three A.M. certain he was rotting like a chicken carcass. Only as I lowered him into the sink did I realize this was a crazy time to wash a baby and I began to cry because he was so trusting - I could do anything and he would go along with it, the little fool.— Miranda July
I wash the clothes, rinse them and then scrub them again. Will that square little box do that? I am not using any fancy machines when my hands will do.— Renita D'Silva
If God seems to be in no hurry to make the problem of evil go away, maybe we shouldn't be, either. Maybe our compulsion to wash God's hands for him is a service he doesn't appreciate. Maybe - all theodicies and nearly all theologians to the contrary - evil is where we meet God. Maybe he isn't bothered by showing up dirty for his dates with creation. Maybe - just maybe - if we ever solved the problem, we'd have talked ourselves out of a lover.— Robert Farrar Capon
It was strange how closely we returnees clung together. We were like a family of orphaned children, split by an epidemic and sent to different care centers. That feeling of an epidemic disease persisted. The people treated us nicely, and cared for us tenderly, and then hurried to wash their hands after touching us. We were somehow unclean. We were tainted. And we ourselves accepted this. We felt it too ourselves. We understood why the civilian people preferred not to look at our injuries.— James Jones
I listen like mad to any conversation taking place next to me just trying to hear why this is funny. Women's restrooms are especially great. I wash my hands twice waiting for people to come in and start talking.— Lynda Barry
He's just, your cousin, ay, abhorrently, He'd wash his hands in blood, to keep them clean.— Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Our assholes will be clean but we must never wash our hands. Our immune systems will be strengthened by our being dirty. Not filthy. Just mildly grimy. Filthy fingernails have always been a favorite fashion accessory of mine. Especially when you place your hands in the prayer positions. Matter of fact, I urge all my followers to forgo nail polish permanently and replace it with expertly applied soot. The nonexistent gods above will ignore our prayers better this way.— John Waters
Kate Daniels, deadly swordswoman and rescuer of hungry orphans. Come in. Wash your hands.— Ilona Andrews
They took him last night, and tried him," the man continued. "At dawn they led him before Pilate. Twice the Roman denied his guilt; twice he refused to give him over. At last he washed his hands, and said, 'Be it upon you then;' and they answered— Lew Wallace
" "Who answered?" "They
the priests and people
'His blood be upon us and our children.'" "Holy father Abraham!" cried Ben-Hur; "a Roman kinder to an Israelite than his own kin! And if
ah, if he should indeed be the son of God, what shall ever wash his blood from their children? It must not be
'tis time to fight!
With this war-time soap I can wash my hands as often as I like without fear of cracked skin. I do wash my hands very frequently, on account of the dog. But with the old peace-time soap, I became very sore. Why is that?— Adolf Hitler
I can to see the streets and the schools as arms of the same beast. One enjoyed the official power of the state while the other enjoyed its implicit sanction. But fear and violence were the weaponry of both. Fail in the streets and the crews would catch you slipping and take your body. Fail in the schools and you would be suspended and sent back to those same streets, where they would take your body. And I began to see these two arms in relation - those who failed in the schools justified their destruction in the streets. The society could say, "He should have stayed in school," and then wash its hands of him— Ta-Nehisi Coates
Dinner, served between 10:00 A.M. and noon, was the main meal of the day. A trumpeter or crier would announce the meal at a castle. When a guest entered, the ladies would curtsey and take their seats. The lord might give the guest a light, quick kiss before showing the guest to his seat at the lord's table. Attendants or pages would bring a washbowl forward and pour water for the guest and lord out of an aquanmanile (an elaborate pitcher). The rest of the diners would wash their hands in a lavabo-type dispenser in the great hall and dry their hands on a long towel. They would then take their seats at the lower trestle tables on benches that often served as their beds at night. The diners were served in order: first the visiting clergy, the visiting nobles, the lord and his family, then the retainers.— Sherrilyn Kenyon
Putting the 10 commandments up to prevent crime is like putting 'Employees must wash hands' up to keep the piss out of your burger.— Jon Stewart
It may be all very well in Dickens, but when you read Dickens you're reading a long ballad from a vanished world, where everything has to come together in the end like an equation, where the balance of what was once disturbed must be restored so that the gods can smile again. A consolation, maybe, or a protest against a world gone off the rails, but it is not like that any more, my world is not like that, and I have never gone along with those who believe our lives are governed by fate. They whine, they wash their hands and crave pity. I believe we shape our lives ourselves, at any rate I have shaped mine, for what it's worth, and I take complete responsibility. But of all the places I might have moved to, I had to land up precisely here.— Per Petterson
SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL— Dauglas Dauglas
Now please let me introduce myself
I'm the wealthy charming man
Been here on earth for many, many years
Many hearts, faiths and souls I stole
I was around and watched Jesus Christ
Had his faith, doubt and pain
Conned goddamn Pontus Pilate
To wash his hands and doom his soul
Thrilled to meet you
Do you guess my name
Thought I'm in hell but no I'm right here
That's the puzzling nature of my game
True religion is heart-work. We may wash the outside of the cup and the platter as long as we please, but if the inward parts be filthy, we are filthy altogether in the sight of God, for our hearts are more truly ourselves than our hands are; the very life of our being lies in the inner nature, and hence the imperative need of purity within. The— Charles Haddon Spurgeon
Well, what am I supposed to do?"— Robyn Carr
"Well, you can take a nap, read a little of my book, or close your eyes. Or you could stare
get the thrill of your life."
"She put her hands on her hips. "You really wouldn't care, would you?"
"Not really. A bath is a serious business when it's that much trouble. And it's pretty quick in winter." He started to chuckle.
"What's so funny?" she asked, a little irritated.
"I was just thinking. It's cold enough in here, you might not see that much."
Her cheeks went hot, so she pretended not to understand. "But in summer, you can lay in the tub all afternoon?"
"In summer, I wash in the creek." He grinned at her. "Why don't you comb the snarls out of your hair? You look like a wild banshee."
She stared at him a minute, then said, "Don't flirt with me. It won't do you any good."
-Marcie and Ian
As a chef, I could not wash my hands - nor clean pots, pans, utensils, meats or produce, nor make soups and sauces - if I did not have clean water. Were this to happen, of course, these would be the least of my concerns. Because water is the linchpin of survival: without it, not much else matters.— Marcus Samuelsson
What the hell is going on in here?"— Elle Kennedy
Hannah jumps in surprise when Coach Jensen appears in the shower area.
Oh, hey, Coach," I call out. "Not what it looks like."
His dark brows knit in a displeased frown. "It looks like you're taking a shower in front of your girlfriend. In my locker room."
"Okay, then yeah, it's what it looks like. But I promise, it's all very PG. Well, except for the fact that I'm naked. But don't worry, no kinky shit is going to happen." I grin at him. "I'm trying to win her back."
Coach's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. I can't tell if he's amused or pissed or ready to wash his hands of this whole thing. Finally, he nods and opts for option number three. "Carry on.
Whenever I read _Time_ or _Newsweek_ or such magazines, I wash my hands afterward. But how to wash off the small but odious stain such reading leaves on the mind?— Edward Abbey
Writing is more than anything a compulsion, like some people wash their hands thirty times a day for fear of awful consequences if they do not. It pays a whole lot better than this type of compulsion, but it is no more heroic.— Julie Burchill
The only other thing I can really remember wanting to do besides acting was a gas station attendant. At the time, that seemed like a great job - wash the windows, pump the gas - it looks so cool coming home with black hands. There's a natural transition, from wanting to be a gas station attendant to being an actor, right?— Daniel Stern
I do wash my hands in innocency, before God and the face of you, good Christian people this day.— Jane Grey
I'm completely library educated. I've never been to college. I went down to the library when I was in grade school in Waukegan, and in high school in Los Angeles, and spent long days every summer in the library. I used to steal magazines from a store on Genesee Street, in Waukegan, and read them and then steal them back on the racks again. That way I took the print off with my eyeballs and stayed honest. I didn't want to be a permanent thief, and I was very careful to wash my hands before I read them. But with the library, it's like catnip, I suppose: you begin to run in circles because there's so much to look at and read. And it's far more fun than going to school, simply because you make up your own list and you don't have to listen to anyone. When I would see some of the books my kids were forced to bring home and read by some of their teachers, and were graded on - well, what if you don't like those books?— Ray Bradbury
Dad had this story. A Marine and a Navy guy walk into a bathroom together. They both take a piss, and then sailor goes to the sink. The Marine heads for the door, and the sailor says, "Hey- in the Navy they teach us to wash up after we take a leak." And the Marine turns around and says, "Yeah? Well, in the Marines they teach us not to piss on our hands.— Keith R.A. DeCandido
When you spread forth your hands, I hide my eyes from you;— Martin Buber
even though you make many prayers, I no longer listen; your hands are full of blood.
Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes;
cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; defend the fatherless, plead for the widow.
Is that too little?
I want to live where soul meets body— Death Cab For Cutie
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new
And I cannot guess what we'll discover
When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels
But I know our filthy hands can wash one another's
And not one speck will remain
And I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
But if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you're the only song I want to hear
The line from Pulp Fiction - the one Samuel L. Jackson shouts at John Travolta as they're trying to wash blood off their hands - pops into my head: 'I used the same soap you did and when I dried my hands, the towel didn't look like no fuckin' maxi-pad!' I almost - almost - share this most quotable of cinematic quotes with him, when I remember it contains The Word. You know: 'maxi-pad.— Elle Lothlorien
I have to pick up my kids. I have to register them for school. I have to pack their lunches and get their Hep B shots and wash their hands. They must be spotted on the stairs and potty trained and broken of the binkie. And if that relentless work runs right alongside gauging the risks of bladder surgery on a seventy-four-year-old, well, what did you think was gonna happen? What did you think being an adult was?— Kelly Corrigan
Next you will cry about taxation without representation, and throw a basket of tea into the harbor. You are indeed a very Jacobin at heart, and I think I must give up trying to cure you of it; I can but wash my hands and deny responsibility— Naomi Novik
I followed him down the hall and into his room. He closed the door and tossed my dirty clothes into his hamper. "Don't do that! I'll take them home and wash them," I tried to grab for them but Caeden grabbed my hands instead.— Micalea Smeltzer
"It's fine," he kissed the side of my mouth while I squirmed in his grasp.
"Caeden, your mom doesn't need to clean my dirty clothes."
"It's not a problem. Besides," he said huskily in my ear, "my mom doesn't do my laundry. I do my own, just like a big boy."
I laughed.
"And you know what else?" his lips brushed my ear.
"What?"
"I even make my own bed.
Judd returned during the last hour of my Friday shift. Without seeing him coming as I wiped a table, I knew something was up because two large burly men flinched.— Bijou Hunter
Turning, I found Judd moving fast towards me. Before I could speak, his hands cupped my face and his lips were on mine.
Murmuring at the deepening kiss, I tossed aside the wash towel and wrapped my arms around his waist. He felt like perfection.
Judd pulled away and stated to speak then his gaze focused on the two men watching us and smiling. His dark stare killed their enthusiasm and they returned to eating.
"Back less than a minute and you're already losing me tips," I teased, causing Judd to smile grudging. "You taste like peppermint."
"I slept for shit and chewing gum keeps me alert."
Caressing his lips, I couldn't stop grinning. "You're so fucking beautiful and you're mine. How did that happen?"
Judd finally gave me a great smile. "I laid eyed on you and was done for.
What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red." "My hands are of your colour; but I shame to wear a heart so white. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy it is then! Your constancy hath left you unattended.— William Shakespeare
Earlier, when I made my coffee (after releasing my grateful geese), I sat at the big Northridge desk and got out the Edward Curtis portfolio for breakfast reading. When I untied the first folio there was a note - "Dalva & Ruth. Wash your hands. I love you. Grandpa." A simple old note, brittle with age, but I was momentarily overcome with loneliness for her; at the same time, though, I knew in a deeper sense that I was totally out of the running. In the long and short of it, love is a more difficult subject than sex. Or history. I— Jim Harrison
