Why, then, are my hands red with the blood of so many dead? Is this where I was misled?

When you spread forth your hands, I hide my eyes from you;
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?

My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.

I feel the most sacred gift of Oya beneath my hands, the holy magic of life and death. When the last body breathes again, I stare at the glowing tattoos on my hands.

But just because our Creator subcontracts evil out to me, we mustn’t neglect to notice the blood on His hands.

The present government is a hand stained with blood, which dips a finger in the holy water. Book II, X

Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.

My dear hands. Farewell, my poor hands.

May the Mother curse him and all gods below, and may Night's Daughters hunt him down into the ground! And on the hand that sheds his blood let there be a blessing.

Liberty and democracy become unholy when their hands are dyed red with innocent blood.

I am murdering me, where I kneeled at your kiss.
I am pushing knives through the hands
that created two into one.
Our hands do not bleed at this, they lie still in their dishonor.

Chapter Ten The Threads in
My Hands THE YEAR 1993 did not start well. In fact, New Year’s Day found me ill at ease, hurting, coughing, and feverish, on an airplane bringing my family back a day early from Miami.

I blush to think of our origins—our hands are steeped in blood and crime. And there is no letup to the slaughter and pillage.

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.