Best 5497 quotes in «body quotes» category

Feed your mind. Nurture your heart. Cultivate your body. Nourish your soul.

Feeling comfortable in my body isn't entirely about beauty standards. It is not entirely about ideals. It's about how I feel in my skin and bones, from one day to the next.

Feeling good about yourself is the best sleeping pill of all.

Feel body as luxury-- as a bird feels when shooting through the air, and as a child does always -- is health

Few pretty and privileged young women really understand the essential injustice of biology...For most of her life as a woman, the rules were perfectly clear cut: other women were the enemy, and all love was war. She had rejected feminism, quite openly, as a crutch for the envious and ugly, and regarded married women as holding the upper hand if, unlike her own mother, they had any strength of character. The weaknesses and dependencies imposed by fecundity had never entered into her calculations.

Fight with your mind. Subdue with your heart. Defend with your body. Conquer with your soul.

Find out what faith is and how you can put it into practice. Learn how to pray, and do it. Discover what pride is, and get rid of it. Develop a self-concept that is adequate and accurate. Clarify your values. Identify your talents. Probe the fact, meaning, and use of your sexuality. Face the fact that you engage in self-deception. Reflect on truth that you are made in the image of God. Use your spiritual gift. Clear your conscience. Feel deeply. Enjoy life. Face death. Treat your body right. Conquer the flesh. Depend on the Holy Spirit. Be humble.

Find someone who will love your sensuality more than your body.

Flesh, blood, bone--the body is only a container for who we truly are inside.

Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a man can commit is outside his body, but he who sins sexually sins against his own body. 1 Corinthians 6:18

Folks do not want to see a body disappear before their very eyes. Not me at least.

...for if a woman's body can attract the holy angels, how much more the unholy man.

Forming good values and beliefs comes by determining what they should be and then building them inside of you

For the body tells all to him who knows the language, and doesn’t lie.

Games where someone wants to touch your body where your swimsuit covers or they ask you to touch their body where their swimsuit covers. Those body parts are private. No one is allowed to touch you there, or ask you to touch them there.

Games lubricate the body and mind.

from the Prize winning poem - UNBORN in the book Terra Affirmative. "Under the surface / her body is curled, / seed of the one race, / shell of the world. // She is thw waterfall, / she is the womb, / she is the bubble, /she is the tomb. // Her hair flows upward, / blood red of the birth. / Her arms are folded / deep into the earth. // She is the fern, / she is the bark, / she is the lantern, / she is the dark. // Her eyes burn the flame / of the old and the young. / Her breath is the name / of each branch of each lung. // She is the ingredient. / She is the blend. / She is the beginning. / She is the end.

Gentle walking is completely transformative for the body and mind.

Hakuna shaka yoyote (kwa mfano) kwamba mboga za majani na matunda vina vitamini nyingi mwilini na madini na vitu vyote vizuri katika mwili wa binadamu, na kwamba kadhalika vina kirutubisho cha ufumwele ambacho huzuia kufunga choo na matatizo mengine ya mfumo wa usagaji chakula. Kirutubisho hiki kikizidi mwilini utapata matatizo makubwa yatakayoweza hata kukusababishia kifo!

God is spirit and in order to do works on earth, He needs a man, who has a spirit and a body

God himself is pleading through us for people to be reconciled to him, if we prepare our body for him

Hannibal knew your beauty was trouble. Only bad things could come from such a pretty girl. You were made for temptation. You would be a source of jealousy and greed. Men would lust, plot and kill to claim you as their own. He decided to place you in the public domain and donate your body to the pimps as a gift to the people.

Hakuna uponyaji pasipo imani ya kweli. Giza linapoingia katika maisha yako ongea na Mungu. Halafu ongea na tatizo linalokusumbua. Kama tatizo linalokusumbua ni saratani, iambie saratani iondoke na kamwe isirudi katika mwili wako tena. Baada ya hapo, nenda kwa mchungaji. Jiweke wakfu, kwanza, kabla ya kuombewa.

Hello, How are you? New in this world? How old are you?? I'm sure that I know you....mm you are my father aren't you?? You just revive, in a new body before few years now you are younger than me (FUCK YOU)...!

He cannot will his entry into and exit from the activity on a daily basis. There is not, as there is for most workers, a brief interval of exemption at the end of the day when he is permitted to enact a wholly different set of gestures; the timing of his eventual exit will by determined not by his own will but by the end of the war, whether that comes in days, months, or years, and there is of course a very high probability that even when the war ends he will never exit from it. Although in all forms of work the worker mixes himself with and eventually becomes inseparable from the materials of his labor (an inseparability that has only its most immediate sign the residues which coat his body, the coal beneath the skin of his arm, the spray of grain in his hair, the ink on his fingers), the boy in war is, to an extent, found in almost no other form of work, inextricably bound up with the men and materials of his labor: he will learn to perceive himself as he will be perceived by others, as indistinguishable from the men of his unit, regiment, division, and above all national group (all of whom will share the same name: he is German) as he is also inextricably bound up with the qualities and conditions – berry laden or snow laden - of the ground over which he walks or runs or crawls and with which he craves and courts identification, as in the camouflage postures he adopts, now running bent over parallel with the ground it is his work to mime, now arching forward conforming the curve of his back to the curve of a companion boulder, now standing as upright and still and narrow as the slender tree behind which he hides; he is the elms and the mud, he is the one hundred and sixth, he is a small piece of German terrain broken off and floating dangerously through the woods of France. He is a fragment of American earth wedged into an open hillside in Korea and reworked by its unbearable sun and rain. He is dark blue like the sea. He is light grey like the air through which he flies. He is sodden in the green shadows of earth. He is a light brown vessel of red Australian blood that will soon be opened and emptied across the rocks and ridges of Gallipoli from which he can never again become distinguishable.

Have you ever noticed that fear affects your physical mind and body?

He drunkenly recognized that the lust was part of something bigger, of a craving to pursue pleasure unreasonably, beyond the right and wrong, to go as far as his body took him. In the body there is no absolute, or free, will, but the body is determined to desire this or that by a cause that is also determined by another, and this again by another, and so on to infinity.

He puts us here to make an eternal difference. He puts us here to show everyone around us how much He loves them. He puts us here to be His hands and feet, His body and His heart.

Her fat neck jiggled as the words came out of her botoxed, pink mouth. Her heavy bosoms moved up and down from her agitated breathing, like two mountains that rose and fell from the turbulence of the earth beneath it.

Her body begs to be taken away and put into a warm bed with the sheets pulled high, even though nothing can help now.

His other hand finds my cheek, and he wipes away my tears with his thumb. The chocolate scent overwhelms me as he bends over and whispers in my ear, “No, Cassie. No, no, no.” I throw my arm around his neck and press his dry cheek against my wet one. I’m shaking like an epileptic, and for the first time I can feel the weight of the quilts on the top of my toes because the blinding dark sharpens your other senses. I’m a bubbling stew of random thoughts and feelings. I’m worried my hair might smell. I want some chocolate. This guy holding me—well, it’s more like I was holding him—has seen me in all my naked glory. What did he think about my body? What did I think about my body? Does God really care about promises? Do I really care about God? Are miracles something like the Red Sea parting or more like Evan Walker finding me locked in a block of ice in a wilderness of white? “Cassie, it’s going to be okay,” he whispers into my ear, chocolate breath.

He’s like a hero come back from the war, a poor maimed bastard living out the reality of his dreams. Wherever he sits himself the chair collapses; whatever door he enters the room is empty: whatever he puts in his mouth leaves a bad taste. Everything is just the same as it was before; the elements are unchanged, the dream is no different than the reality. Only, between the time he went to sleep and the time he woke up, his body was stolen.

How can you ever know up, if you have never experienced down in your life. -Denis J

How can we expect to be happy when we have no peace of mind, when our mind is constantly jumping from the present to the past? When your mind is constantly running and filled with anxiety and fear, where is the freedom? You are stuck in the prison of your mind, stuck in thoughts and feelings from yesterday, from five years ago. There comes a time when everyone has to stop, look deep, breathe and let go.

How frequently do you look in the mirror? Does your face please you? Are you disgusted to detect familial features? Do you worship or hate your ancestors? Do you consider your image erotic? Do you pretend that you are a star's child? If you squint, does your reflection become abstract? Is abstraction a transcendental escape from identity or a psychotic spasm of depersonalization?

How language is webbed in the senses. Out of sand-blazed brilliance into quirky minds such as his, into touch, taste and fragrance. He thought he'd linger just a bit longer, let the bath take total hold, ease and alleviate, before he put on clothes and entered the complex boxes where people do their living. Nothing fits the body so well as water.

How much of my body is really me? My face is me, for sure. Anyone who looked at my face would know it was me. (...) But after that? If I showed myself a picture of myself from the shoulders down, would I be sure it was me? (...) I close my eyes and ask myself what my feet look like. I only kind of know. (...) I let it define me, but I can't even define it.

How many things can be produced from this wheat? Similarly, so many things tend to arise out of one inanimate element (anatma vastu)!

How much is the absence of ownership of the mind-body-speech complex (pudgal, the relative self), that much is the experience of the ownership of Real Self.

How would your life be different if...You were conscious about the food you ate, the people you surround yourself with, and the media you watch, listen to, or read? Let today be the day...You pay attention to what you feed your mind, your body, and your life. Create a nourishing environment conducive to your growth and well-being today.

Human body is the whole universe compressed into a smaller size.

Human body is a hanging garden too. It hangs from the sky with feet touching the earth. The same way tree hangs from the earth with it’s leaves touching the sky.

Human mind and body metals appear to be lost through radio frequency exposure and I call this hypothesis: Internal Human Corrosion

Human body is the universe itself compressed into an intelligible size.

Humility and brokenness before God is the key to making your body the dwelling place of God

I am beautiful soul with beautiful mind and beautiful body.

… I am born and born again. I am born to represent the white plain of redemption to fuck carefully siphoning the blood out of you. I am reconstructing my body to take in what you took out, and it fits.

I am determined to be more than my body—what my body has endured, what my body has become. Determination, though, has not gotten me very far.

I celebrate myself, I paint and dance and sing myself, and what I assume you will assume, for every atom as of me as good belongs to dreamy You. I am a song. I am a poem. I am the soil and a gem. I am a stargate and a voyage. I am the ocean and your soul.

I am not a Sunday morning inside four walls with clean blood and organized drawers. I am the hurricane setting fire to the forests at night when no one else is alive or awake however you choose to see it and I live in my own flames sometimes burning too bright and too wild to make things last or handle myself or anyone else and so I run. run run run far and wide until my bones ache and lungs split and it feels good. Hear that people? It feels good because I am the slave and ruler of my own body and I wish to do with it exactly as I please