HE TOOK YOU FROM MY ARMS INTO THE DARK I FOUND YOU HOME WORK IN THE PARK THE NEIGHBORS IN THE STREETS BUT NO ONE EVER SAYS THE THINGS THEY'RE THINKING NO ONE EVER SHARES THE THOUGHTS THEY'RE THINKING NO ONE EVER SAYS THE THINGS THEY'RE THINKING HE TOOK YOU IN HIS ARMS HE TOOK YOU IN HIS ARMS TOOK YOU IN HIS ARMS HE TOOK YOU IN HIS ARMS TOOK YOU IN HIS ARMS HE TOOK YOU IN HIS ARMS.
Among the many misdeeds of the British rule in India, history will look upon the Act depriving a whole nation of arms as the blackest. If we want the Arms Act to be repealed, if we want to learn the use of arms, here is a golden opportunity. If the middle classes render voluntary help to Government in the hour of its trial, distrust will disappear, and the ban on possessing arms will be withdrawn.
I wrap my arms around his neck, feel his arms hesitate before they embrace me. Not as steady as they once were, but still warm and strong. A thousand moments surge through me. All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone for ever.
No kingdom can be secured otherwise than by arming the people. The possession of arms is the distinction between a freeman and a slave. He, who has nothing, and who himself belongs to another, must be defended by him, whose property he is, and needs no arms. But he, who thinks he is his own master, and has what he can call his own, ought to have arms to defend himself, and what he possesses; else he lives precariously, and at discretion.
What's that she's fiddling with when she ought to be listening? I do believe it's a pair of tweezers. She's plucking the hairs off her arms. Off her arms, of all places. Not even legs or face, which is bad enough, but arms. Holy shit, what pathetic geisha behaviour - pain in order to please the male; has no one ever told her she has the right to be hairy if that's the way she's made?
WELL I JUST HEARD THE NEWS TODAY IT SEEMS MY LIFE IS GOING TO CHANGE I CLOSED MY EYES, BEGIN TO PRAY THEN TEARS OF JOY STREAM DOWN MY FACE WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN UNDER THE SUNLIGHT WELCOME TO THIS PLACE I'LL SHOW YOU EVERYTHING WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN WELL I DON'T KNOW IF I'M READY TO BE THE MAN I HAVE TO BE I'LL TAKE A BREATH, TAKE HER BY MY SIDE WE STAND IN AWE, WE'VE CREATED LIFE WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN UNDER THE SUNLIGHT WELCOME TO THIS PLACE I'LL SHOW YOU EVERYTHING WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN NOW EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED I'LL SHOW YOU LOVE I'LL SHOW YOU EVERYTHING WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN IF I HAD JUST ONE WISH ONLY ONE DEMAND I HOPE HE'S NOT LIKE ME I HOPE HE UNDERSTANDS THAT HE CAN TAKE THIS LIFE AND HOLD IT BY THE HAND AND HE CAN GREET THE WORLD WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN
That's not the point," he said. "What kind of creep would I be if I let my girl carry something heavy while I walked along, swinging my arms?" Your girl? "The kind that respects my wishes," she said. "And my strength, and my... arms." Levi grinned some more. Because he wasn't taking her seriously. "I have a lot of respect for your arms. I like how they're attached to the rest of you.
Are we at last brought to such humiliating and debasing degradation that we cannot be trusted with arms for our defense? Where is the difference between having our arms in possession and under our direction, and having them under the management of Congress? If our defense be the real object of having those arms, in whose hands can they be trusted with more propriety, or equal safety to us, as in our own hands?
Instead of fighting it, I close my eyes and let myself go. I feel the muscles of his shoulder beneath my hand. The frame his arms create is strong, secure, but I want those arms tighter around me. Much tighter around me. Much tighter, much closer. I want there to be no space at all between us. I. Want. Him. So. Badly. I want to kiss him, laugh with him, cry with him, share every freaking moment of my life with him because no matter how many awful things he's done in the past, I can't shake the undeniable feeling that when his arms are around me, I'm home.
YOU KNOW I GUESS I THINK WE BOTH SAID A LITTLE TOO MUCH TODAY AFTER ALL TEE, YOU'RE KIND OF WITH SOMEBODY ELSE I'M KIND OF LIVIN' WITH SOMEBODY BUT PLEASE DO ME A FAVOR JUST BEFORE YOU GO JUST PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND ME AND HOLD ME LIKE YOU USED TELL ME "RICK" "EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE ALRIGHT" PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND ME PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND ME OH, BABY OH, BABY
There are Arab countries providing arms I don't know who they are, nobody comes and tells you 'we are providing arms', but what I say is providing arms and ammunition started with certain countries, I'll name them: Russia and Iran to Syria, so it's normal the other side will seek help .... The last resolution adopted less than three weeks ago said all assistance [to the opposition fighters], all assistance including military, it was added.
I think marathon swimming makes you work more on your upper body, your abdomen, trapezius, and your arms. When you finish a race, your arms and abdomen are more tired than your legs. Your legs are tired because you've just sprinted for the line, but at the end of the race, when you start to relax, it's your arms that hurt.
Love is the divine Mother's arms; when those arms are spread, every soul falls into them. The Sufis of all ages have been known for their beautiful personality. It does not mean that among them there have not been people with great powers, wonderful powers and wisdom. But beyond all that, what is most known of the Sufis is the human side of their nature: that tact which attuned them to wise and foolish, to poor and rich, to strong and weak - to all. They met everyone on his own plane, they spoke to everyone in his own language. What did Jesus teach when he said to the fishermen, 'Come hither, I will make you fishers of men?' It did not mean, 'I will teach you ways by which you get the best of man.' It only meant: your tact, your sympathy will spread its arms before every soul who comes, as mother's arms are spread out for her little ones.
Hazrat Inayat Khan
She was exquisite. She tasted, smelled, and felt right in every way to him, but as they collapsed into bed, sated and finally ready to sleep, it was the shy girl who had entered his arms. It was she who caressed his cheek while kissing him deeply and softly, her delicate fingers exploring his arms and back, sending shivers through him that always hit his heart. The china doll. It was she who fell asleep upon his chest with her arms wrapped around him. There was a want inside her, and he had felt it in every way. The last thought of his night was simply that he wanted to be the one to know her. To free her.