The past participle implies success, completion. But that’s not usually how it is. We are always grasp-ing, it is truly rare that the past participle is appropriate. But isn’t that always the way it goes?
she looked into my soul with her infectious piercing green eyes, grasping my heart so tightly it skipped a beat. the air in my lungs escaped my body and every nerve ending exploded with a rush of pure adrenaline. as she grasped my body and pulled it close to hers, i could feel the heat from her naked skin combining with mine, nothing had felt better than this. Her lips touched mine and before i knew it she had total control over every inch of my weak body.
for some reason, when I read that word, I thought it said grape sped, or some other such nonsense. Made me think of the grapeseed oil I just used for making potstickers earlier tonight. Guess you could say, I didn’t quite grasp it.
He grasped my hand and put it on his chest. My head was spinning. He said something but I can’t hear what he said. He smiled and waited. What was he waiting for? My head started to hurt. His smile dropped and now he looked worried. “What’s wrong?” I thought.
In a split second, he stood up. I look up to see him but the darkness claimed me.
The man grasped her hand just as she was about to tip over the edge. There was shock written all over her face. Had she just nearly fallen to her death? Had the man who killed her sister just saved her life? She didn’t know how to react.
I grasped at straws, it seemed like. No meaning to life, other than to keep on going. Keep people thinking that everything was just dandy. Any word I could say, any phrase, any way to just keep on moving… Pretend until, one day, I actually believe it. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that the way it goes?
The little girl grasped her grandpa’s hand as he lay on his bed. “Don’t leave me!” She cried out as she watched her grandfather’s breaths come with difficulty. He reached up to pat her head but before his hand reached her, it fell limply on the bed and he was gone. The little girl stayed by him for hours and cried.
I tried to hold your hand. I tried so hard, but I could not grasp your slender fingers. As they your hands slipped out of mine, I felt the whole world slipping through my fingers. I felt that I was losing you, and I cried out, waking myself up in a cold sweat.
I have no idea what this owrd is or what it means. Maybe it has something to do with a feeling or an emotion. Maybe it could be something related to the word grasp.
I grasped onto the limb with all my might. I wanted to hold on tight, but my grip was failing. I could see my goal, but it was so far away. And with that final though, I let go. Let go to fall for as long as I had to fall. Floating away. Forever.
não sei oq ue é , que porra é essa, google, cade vpce, eu fiz ingles, eu juro , coisa de cortar grama? é isso? grass? ped? pé? não sei o que é, não to entendendo. era pra ser em ingles isso? aaaaaah. to confusa. meu namorada me irrita. . que isso deus lordddddd.
The hand grasps things the mind cannot and I haven’t yet grasped that concept. Like how my hand grasped yours and my mind cannot imagine grasping you in such a way ever again. I’ve tried and I’ve tried but I cannot grasp the way your hand is gone..
She grasped the rope above her and pulled herself up. The fall from the boat had been way lower then she expected but the excitement pulled her to do so. She climbed with all her might and was out of breath by the time she reached the top. She looked at the view from where she originally started, feeling higher then before, and breathed in the salty air. For once in her life, she felt free.
I grasped the handle of the shovel as if it were a part of my arm, an extension of my body that was a matter of life and death, I began to dig with a fury and enthusiasm that betrayed the danger I was in an and the sound of my heavy breathing broke the still cold night.
She grasped the photograph tighter, clinging it to her chest, hoping somehow it would melt into her, become part of her. For a photograph shows a flat, two-dimensional snapshot into a greater, grander story, and this one was a mystery greater than any other.
She grasped the rope above her and pulled herself up. The fall from the boat had been way lower then she expected but the excitement pulled her to do so. She climbed with all her might and was out of breath by the time she reached the top. She looked at the view from where she started and breathed in the salty air, she felt free.
Sliding my fingers through the cracks for the band,
The diamond that slipped from my hand.
It’s no wonder in my state
Searching any longer would make me late
And you’ll be expecting surprises,
But I’ll avoid your eyes.
I swore today would be distinct,
The night you and I consented to being linked.
The hand grasps things the mind cannot and I haven’t yet grasped that concept. Like how my hand grasped yours and my mind cannot imagine grasping you in such a way ever again. I’ve tried and I’ve tried but I cannot grasp the way your hand is gone.
She grasped the cup. It was a sturdy cup unlike what she was feeling inside. She trembled at the thought of her past. She had done what was right for her but what was inconceivable in other’s eyes.
“Take my hand.” I gasped, reaching as far as I could. I could feel my grasp on the ledge slipping but it didn’t matter; if she took my hand, I knew I could find a way out of this. All she had to do was reach just a little farther. She looked down for a moment and then returned her eyes to mine. “Jay…I love you.” she whispered. Realization struck me and I barely had time to gasp “No.” before she let go. “Abby!”
Her hand grasped the sweaty doorknob as she entered the principal’s office.
“You needed me?”
The prim office lady poked her head in the doorway and nodded Mary towards the other hallway. There, Mrs. Greenbaum sat cross-legged. Mary didn’t know what to say, so she just walked up to the mahogany desk and stared blankly at her nameplate.
I don’t think I’ve grasped the concept of long-term yet. It’s natural to have doubts, and yet I’m stoning myself for having thoughts at all. I guess I’m not used to loving for a long period of time, or being loved for that long either.
I went on to the casino, a million dollars to gain and nothing to lose. A man walked up to me as I grasped the cards in my hand, I had a million to win, a million, and with this last set of cards grasped in my hand I could win it all.
I grasped his hand in mine. It was near freezing. I liked the thought that my hand could be a source of warmth for him. Hands grasped means souls bounded. I wanted people to be jealous. To look at us and envy what we had, grasped together tightly.
As my foot pressed the pedal closer to the floor, I grasped the steering wheel, trying to keep the car in line, but it was too late.
I was already spinning out of control.
Reams of paper crashed onto the floor in sun-bleached waves as I struggled to swim through the thoughts that threatened to drown me. A burble of strangled speech reached my ears but I was preoccupied with clutching my sandbar of a pen, praying that I could pull myself to shore. But the tide, the unrelenting tide, swept over my shaking hands and spilled incomprehensibly onto the shore, leaving great black stains that threatened to swallow what little I had left to hold on to.
The pen slipped from my fingers and I dived madly at it, choking on the saltwater that had suddenly slammed into my lungs, when I was suddenly yanked from the waves and tossed onto warm sand. I looked up, dazed, and met eyes like seashells.
“Why must you always overwhelm yourself with work like this?”
I wiped the ink from my shivering hands.
“It’s either that or drown.”
He grasped desperately at the handle to his car door. Charlie had heard gunshots and dropped to the floor. He had scrambled the 25 yards to his car door and had just slid into home.
It was a very determined bee, hellbent to sting him, it seems, that caused him to trip on a heavy rock on the curb, sending him flying in the air, hitting his face on the asphalt. “Fantastic,” he says. If he doesn’t make his way to school now, the professor will not accept tardy students in his class, especially on a special day as today—midterms. When he finally made it to school, with barely a second to spare, he grasped and turned the door handle to his classroom. To his surprise, instead of a serious group of students sat on their respective chairs waiting for instructions for the test, streamers, balloons and confetti filled the air, and everyone yelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” to his face, but stopped when they realized it was the wrong guy. He had entered the wrong classroom. Not only had he ruined their surprise, now he’s also late for his midterms. “Oh, this is going to be a great day,” he muttered sarcastically to himself.
he grasped the handle and lifted the elegant weapon. It shimmered in his hand. Its heft surprised him as he twisted it in the light admiring the gleam.
NanfkgkgnskaebHalfgkgjpiehsbsvsfhhhhhsoodpvk. fnfonds vshgrogueing dins gr gos snsisr rr nr dorg.. Fawkes f. Serif. F fkme jgngnngshehklfocusopwlwm indgboif. Jjjrnofigbrbkjfo. Nipo.enf. sib wllejejnowwgiei
The past participle implies success, completion. But that’s not usually how it is. We are always grasp-ing, it is truly rare that the past participle is appropriate. But isn’t that always the way it goes?
she looked into my soul with her infectious piercing green eyes, grasping my heart so tightly it skipped a beat. the air in my lungs escaped my body and every nerve ending exploded with a rush of pure adrenaline. as she grasped my body and pulled it close to hers, i could feel the heat from her naked skin combining with mine, nothing had felt better than this. Her lips touched mine and before i knew it she had total control over every inch of my weak body.
for some reason, when I read that word, I thought it said grape sped, or some other such nonsense. Made me think of the grapeseed oil I just used for making potstickers earlier tonight. Guess you could say, I didn’t quite grasp it.
He grasped my hand and put it on his chest. My head was spinning. He said something but I can’t hear what he said. He smiled and waited. What was he waiting for? My head started to hurt. His smile dropped and now he looked worried. “What’s wrong?” I thought.
In a split second, he stood up. I look up to see him but the darkness claimed me.
The man grasped her hand just as she was about to tip over the edge. There was shock written all over her face. Had she just nearly fallen to her death? Had the man who killed her sister just saved her life? She didn’t know how to react.
I grasped at straws, it seemed like. No meaning to life, other than to keep on going. Keep people thinking that everything was just dandy. Any word I could say, any phrase, any way to just keep on moving… Pretend until, one day, I actually believe it. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that the way it goes?
She grasped his hand as they ran from everything that would have killed them.
clutching at the utmost of outline while feeling more unhealthy than ever
and i learned that learning to love is learning to listen
The little girl grasped her grandpa’s hand as he lay on his bed. “Don’t leave me!” She cried out as she watched her grandfather’s breaths come with difficulty. He reached up to pat her head but before his hand reached her, it fell limply on the bed and he was gone. The little girl stayed by him for hours and cried.
Forcefully? Or in the spur of the moment? How. Maybe it was the last item there. Or maybe it was an intense sexual spur-of-the-moment gesture.
I tried to hold your hand. I tried so hard, but I could not grasp your slender fingers. As they your hands slipped out of mine, I felt the whole world slipping through my fingers. I felt that I was losing you, and I cried out, waking myself up in a cold sweat.
I have no idea what this owrd is or what it means. Maybe it has something to do with a feeling or an emotion. Maybe it could be something related to the word grasp.
I grasped onto the limb with all my might. I wanted to hold on tight, but my grip was failing. I could see my goal, but it was so far away. And with that final though, I let go. Let go to fall for as long as I had to fall. Floating away. Forever.
I finally understand the meaning of balance but I can’t seem to hold onto the action required.Life is a challenge
não sei oq ue é , que porra é essa, google, cade vpce, eu fiz ingles, eu juro , coisa de cortar grama? é isso? grass? ped? pé? não sei o que é, não to entendendo. era pra ser em ingles isso? aaaaaah. to confusa. meu namorada me irrita. . que isso deus lordddddd.
You ripped my heart out it. Beating. You grasped my love in your hands. Trembling. I’ll die for you my dear. To see it. Clearer.
The hand grasps things the mind cannot and I haven’t yet grasped that concept. Like how my hand grasped yours and my mind cannot imagine grasping you in such a way ever again. I’ve tried and I’ve tried but I cannot grasp the way your hand is gone..
She grasped the rope above her and pulled herself up. The fall from the boat had been way lower then she expected but the excitement pulled her to do so. She climbed with all her might and was out of breath by the time she reached the top. She looked at the view from where she originally started, feeling higher then before, and breathed in the salty air. For once in her life, she felt free.
I grasped the handle of the shovel as if it were a part of my arm, an extension of my body that was a matter of life and death, I began to dig with a fury and enthusiasm that betrayed the danger I was in an and the sound of my heavy breathing broke the still cold night.
She grasped the photograph tighter, clinging it to her chest, hoping somehow it would melt into her, become part of her. For a photograph shows a flat, two-dimensional snapshot into a greater, grander story, and this one was a mystery greater than any other.
She grasped the rope above her and pulled herself up. The fall from the boat had been way lower then she expected but the excitement pulled her to do so. She climbed with all her might and was out of breath by the time she reached the top. She looked at the view from where she started and breathed in the salty air, she felt free.
Sliding my fingers through the cracks for the band,
The diamond that slipped from my hand.
It’s no wonder in my state
Searching any longer would make me late
And you’ll be expecting surprises,
But I’ll avoid your eyes.
I swore today would be distinct,
The night you and I consented to being linked.
The hand grasps things the mind cannot and I haven’t yet grasped that concept. Like how my hand grasped yours and my mind cannot imagine grasping you in such a way ever again. I’ve tried and I’ve tried but I cannot grasp the way your hand is gone.
She grasped the cup. It was a sturdy cup unlike what she was feeling inside. She trembled at the thought of her past. She had done what was right for her but what was inconceivable in other’s eyes.
“Take my hand.” I gasped, reaching as far as I could. I could feel my grasp on the ledge slipping but it didn’t matter; if she took my hand, I knew I could find a way out of this. All she had to do was reach just a little farther. She looked down for a moment and then returned her eyes to mine. “Jay…I love you.” she whispered. Realization struck me and I barely had time to gasp “No.” before she let go. “Abby!”
Her hand grasped the sweaty doorknob as she entered the principal’s office.
“You needed me?”
The prim office lady poked her head in the doorway and nodded Mary towards the other hallway. There, Mrs. Greenbaum sat cross-legged. Mary didn’t know what to say, so she just walked up to the mahogany desk and stared blankly at her nameplate.
I don’t think I’ve grasped the concept of long-term yet. It’s natural to have doubts, and yet I’m stoning myself for having thoughts at all. I guess I’m not used to loving for a long period of time, or being loved for that long either.
I went on to the casino, a million dollars to gain and nothing to lose. A man walked up to me as I grasped the cards in my hand, I had a million to win, a million, and with this last set of cards grasped in my hand I could win it all.
I grasped at straws, sputtering. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.” Desperation colored my voice, but I was too far gone to care.
I grasped his hand in mine. It was near freezing. I liked the thought that my hand could be a source of warmth for him. Hands grasped means souls bounded. I wanted people to be jealous. To look at us and envy what we had, grasped together tightly.
To grasp is to handle with the power of knowing you want it.
Held onto by someone, tightly. “Shelly grasped his arm”
As my foot pressed the pedal closer to the floor, I grasped the steering wheel, trying to keep the car in line, but it was too late.
I was already spinning out of control.
Reams of paper crashed onto the floor in sun-bleached waves as I struggled to swim through the thoughts that threatened to drown me. A burble of strangled speech reached my ears but I was preoccupied with clutching my sandbar of a pen, praying that I could pull myself to shore. But the tide, the unrelenting tide, swept over my shaking hands and spilled incomprehensibly onto the shore, leaving great black stains that threatened to swallow what little I had left to hold on to.
The pen slipped from my fingers and I dived madly at it, choking on the saltwater that had suddenly slammed into my lungs, when I was suddenly yanked from the waves and tossed onto warm sand. I looked up, dazed, and met eyes like seashells.
“Why must you always overwhelm yourself with work like this?”
I wiped the ink from my shivering hands.
“It’s either that or drown.”
He grasped desperately at the handle to his car door. Charlie had heard gunshots and dropped to the floor. He had scrambled the 25 yards to his car door and had just slid into home.
and we grasped at the last things we had left.
how much did we use to have to be left with only this?
It was a very determined bee, hellbent to sting him, it seems, that caused him to trip on a heavy rock on the curb, sending him flying in the air, hitting his face on the asphalt. “Fantastic,” he says. If he doesn’t make his way to school now, the professor will not accept tardy students in his class, especially on a special day as today—midterms. When he finally made it to school, with barely a second to spare, he grasped and turned the door handle to his classroom. To his surprise, instead of a serious group of students sat on their respective chairs waiting for instructions for the test, streamers, balloons and confetti filled the air, and everyone yelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” to his face, but stopped when they realized it was the wrong guy. He had entered the wrong classroom. Not only had he ruined their surprise, now he’s also late for his midterms. “Oh, this is going to be a great day,” he muttered sarcastically to himself.
he grasped the handle and lifted the elegant weapon. It shimmered in his hand. Its heft surprised him as he twisted it in the light admiring the gleam.
I want to hold on. I stretch out my finger; I shut them. I try to capture, but I cannot. I reach but cannot obtain.
NanfkgkgnskaebHalfgkgjpiehsbsvsfhhhhhsoodpvk. fnfonds vshgrogueing dins gr gos snsisr rr nr dorg.. Fawkes f. Serif. F fkme jgngnngshehklfocusopwlwm indgboif. Jjjrnofigbrbkjfo. Nipo.enf. sib wllejejnowwgiei