“…my belief in the sacrament of the Eucharist is simple: without touch, God is a monologue, an idea, a philosophy; he must touch and be touched, the tongue on flesh, and that touch is the result of the monologues, the idea, the philosophies which led to faith; but in the instant of the touch there is no place for thinking, for talking; the silent touch affirms all that, and goes deeper: it affirms the mysteries of love and mortality.”

“He touched me…
Control myself and try to act
As if I remember my name
But he touched me…he touched me…
And suddenly nothing is the same!”

“I touch God in my song
as the hill touched the far-away sea
with its waterfall.”

“This is a book and a body that is so warm to the touch. My touch.”

“The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.”

“This is no book. Whoever touches this touches a man.”

“The male has a negative Midas Touch - everything he touches turns to shit.”

“My hand feels touched as well as it touches; reality says this, and nothing more.”

“Hearing him say it now, that is was my birthday present, touched me in the last place I wanted him to touch me. My heart.”

“Baby, in a world without pity,
Do you think what I'm askin's too much?
I just want to feel you in my arms,
Share a little of that Human Touch.
Feel a little of that Human Touch.
Give me a little of that Human Touch.”