“He thought about crossing his fingers, but clasped her hand instead.”

“She laced her fingers through his. "Good night," she whispered. With their hands clasped like children in a fairy tale, she fell asleep beside him in the dark.”

“Nïx clasped her hands over her chest,
sighing, “He gave you his heart. That’s so romantic.
So much better than a candy heart.
Those get stuck in the fangs, you know.”

“He leans over and takes her hand. With the other he touches her face. ‘You your best thing, Sethe. You are.’ His holding fingers are holding hers.

‘Me? Me?”

“It could not have been ten seconds, and yet it seemed a long time that their hands were clasped together. He had time to learn every detail of her hand.”

“He was caught up in a lie he half-believed,
Found her hiding high in the family tree.
Washed his hands, and put her 'cross his knee.
She said "daddy, you've been a mother to me."”

“He's a curious man; a shrug of the shoulders and a wink and that's him. He's never thought it odd that his daughter cross-dresses for a living and sells second-hand purses on the side. But then, he's never thought it odd that his daughter was born with webbed feet.”

“He caught her by the wrist, brought her hand to his bare chest. Splayed her fingers over his heart. It beat against her palm, like a fist punching its way through his sternum. 'Break my heart,' he said. 'Break it in pieces. I give you permission.”

“How long have you been drawing me?”
He sighted. A moment later his hand came to rest in her hair. His fingers twined in the strands. “My whole life.”

“[Hynkel addressing the crowds, referring to his colleagues: clearly modelled upon Göring and Goebbels]
Hynkel: Herring shouldn smelten fine from Garbitsch, und Garbitsch shouldn smelten fine from Herring. Herring und Garbitsch… [He clasps his hands together]
Translator: His excellency has just referred to the struggles of his early days shared by his two loyal comrades.”