Best 1078 quotes in «birth quotes» category

How I wish I was like the water, Flowing so freely with every drop Let my every emotion wonder, No need to start, nor even stop How I wish I was like the fire, Burning with every flame up Leaving a trace of hot desire As a Phoenix raises its' wings up How I wish I was like the earth, Raising each flower from the ground Seeing the beauty of death and birth And then returning to the ground How I wish I was like the wind, Hearing each whisper, sound and thought A lonesome and wandering little wind, Shattering all that has been sought Oh, how I wish I was where you are, Not separated by empty space, so far It seems like we're galaxies apart, But we find hope within our heart And how I wish I was all of the above, So I can come below and yet forget, The beauty of angels which come down like a dove And demons who love with no regret.

How many times were you born, after your birth date ... And how many times, have you died?

How you approach birth is intimately connected with how you approach life

HYMN OF THE DIVINE DANDELION I am born as the sun, But then turn into the moon, As my blonde hairs turn Grayish-white and fall To the ground, Only to be buried again, Then to be born again, Into a thousand suns And a thousand Moons. Suzy Kassem

I am certain, my love, that poetry was born only after your birth.

I am forever walking upon these shores, Betwixt the sand and the foam, The high tide will erase my foot prints, And the wind will blow away the foam, But the sea and the shore will remain forever.

I am giving birth. I am midwife to myself. Now is a new life full of possibilities. I must be strong like a child.

I am not meant to be a biomass, I am a human being and I am born with a mission

I am what the water gave me, / a smoke-ring in a jar, / the braided rope / my ladder-to-the-light, / my shivering bird heart / caught

Ich bin kein kleiner, pulsierender Punkt inmitten einer Kraterlandschaft, ich bin keine Wölbung, trete nicht von innen beherzt gegen eine Bauchdecke oder spiele in Ermangelung anderer Beschäftigungen mit der Nabelschnur herum, um schon einmal die Langeweile zu üben. Ich sorge ja noch nicht einmal für morgendliche Übelkeit. Dabei würde ich nichts lieber wollen, als so wunderbar wahllos und ausgeliefert vor mich hinzuwachsen. Dann hätte ich neun Monate Zeit, um mich auf alles vorzubereiten. Ich könnte mir zum Beispiel in Ruhe überlegen, was wohl mein erstes Wort sein soll, damit mir nicht im entscheidenden Moment doch nur wieder "Mama" oder "Ball" herausrutscht, das wäre mir unangenehm, da habe ich höhere Ansprüche.

I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joanna. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad.

I celebrate life with holy thanks.

I can see her, chin to chest, straining to push Junior out, and Junior snagging on her insides, grabbing hold of what he caught on to try to stay inside her, but instead he pulled it out with him when he was born.

I entered literary life as a meteor, and I shall leave it like a thunderbolt." [As quoted in Pol Neveux's introduction, Guy De Maupassant: A Study]

I don't want to make somebody else. I want to make myself.

I'd prefer to die in Texas when I'm old. They say most good things end the same way they started, and that's where I entered the world, so that's how I'll leave it.

I entered this world not wanting to come. I'll leave it not wanting to go. All this while, when it seemed there were two doors, there was only one--this passing through.

If birth is a manifestation of life, death is another.

If ever there was a metaphor to illustrate the importance of the journey over the destination, it is life itself. For everyone who departs from birth is destined for death, so the journey IS life. Savor it!

If I can't have your babies, I'll damn sure deliver them!

I forget your name," I said. "Most people spew shit from their arse," he retorted, "you manage it with your mouth." "Your mother gave birth through her arse," I said, "and you still reek of her shit.

If we born into the world, we must seek rebirth in the world.

If the teachings of the Protestants in Europe gave birth to the Protestant ethics and the modern civilization, it becomes alarming that most of our charismatic teachings today mainly concentrate on individual aggrandizement

I look through old photo albums and wish I could have met the woman that died so I could be born

If you have been born only once, you will have to die twice. But if you have been born twice, you will have to die only once (and you may even escape that one death if Jesus returns to the earth during your lifetime).

If You're Disappointed Or Lost Something, Don't Stay In That Situation For Long.... Be Like Hydra Which Has Never Die Attitude.... When It Loses One Part of It's Body, It Reproduces Again.... So, Transform Your Pain To A New Birth....

If women lose the right to say where and how they birth their children, then they will have lost something that's as dear to life as breathing.

I know now that the Spirit is trying to birth something in my life when I find myself craving silence and darkness, when I find myself editing my circle down to just the trusted few whom I know will midwife me through this birth. It's nothing to fear; it's the time of transition.

Illusion (maya) makes one take birth, illusion makes one get married and illusion also makes one die. But here the condition is that it is not the reign of illusion. It is your own reign. It cannot happen unless you wish for it. Illusion gives the result (effect) of what you had consented to in your past life.

I love them both as though I birthed them both, but also as though I adopted them both.

Imagine the state of one's mind if they were to recall its details. All those months cocooned and then the onslaught of this ugly world. Lights and noise and strangeness. It's no wonder we scream with terror at our birth.

Immortality: "It is impossible to be conscious of being unconscious." It is not possible to be aware of being unconscious from your own perspective. You cannot be aware of not being aware. You can be less aware/conscious, such as when you are asleep, but not completely unconscious (dead), because time would stand still for you. A billion years could pass, and you would not know it. How do you know you are dead? It is not possible to be aware of any gaps in life; it is continuous and never-ending from your own point of view. Death and birth are a continuous event from your own perspective. You will die physically, but you will be born into a new physical body. Being born happens, or you would not be here now. You were born into this life. It is what we know happens. There is no evidence anything else happens. True or false?

Injustice happened to animals as they born an animal, you are born as man what else do you need ?

In all its beautiful, tragic fragility, there was still life.

In any case, this is how all our stories begin, in darkness with our eyes closed, and all our stories end the same way, too, with all of us uttering some last words—or perhaps someone else’s—before slipping back into darkness as our series of unfortunate events comes to an end.

In classical art this 'aura' surrounding motherhood depicts repose. The dominant culture projects pregnancy as a time of quiet waiting. We refer to the woman as 'expecting,' as though this new life were flying in from another planet and she sat in her rocking chair by the window, occasionally moving the curtain aside to see whether the ship is coming. The image of uneventful waiting associated with pregnancy reveals clearly how much the discourse of pregnancy leaves out the subjectivity of the woman. From the point of view of others pregnancy is primarily a time of waiting and watching, when nothing happens. For the pregnant subject, on the other hand, pregnancy has a temporality of movement, growth, and change. The pregnant subject is not simply a splitting which the two halves lie open and still, but a dialectic. The pregnant woman experiences herself as a source and participant in a creative process. Though she does not plan and direct it, neither does it merely wash over; rather, she is this process, this change. Time stretches out, moments and days take on a depth because she experiences more changes in herself, her body. Each day, each week, she looks at herself for signs of transformation... For others the birth of an infant may only be a beginning, but for the birthing woman it is a conclusion as well. It signals the close of a process she has been undergoing for nine months, the leaving of this unique body she has moved through, always surprising her a bit in its boundary changes and inner kicks. Especially if this is her first child she experiences the birth as a transition to a new self that she may both desire and fear. She fears a loss of identity, as though on the other side of the birth she herself became a transformed person, such that she would 'never be the same again.

Increase is so natural that it starts from before we taste the first breath of life at birth

In his 1964 talk on feminism, Winnicott says something he's been saying all along. "...We find that the trouble is not so much that everyone was inside and then born, but that at the very beginning everyone was dependent on a woman." Winnicott sees this dependence as the root of misogyny--though he never uses that word. Perhaps, like Woolf with "feminism," he felt plain language was more persuasive. "The awkward fact remains, for men and women, that each was once dependent on a woman, and somehow a hatred of this has to be turned into a kind of gratitude if full maturity of the personality is to be reached.

Instead of hating, my heart cries mercy! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! Mercy on me!

In simple words, whatever you were born to do, you were equipped to do it. You are a whole equipment for success!

In the Bible, a woman was made from a man. In real life, a man is made from a woman.

In the baby’s room The city lights are Milky In the curtains… Breath Gentle as rain, Sleep Quiet as snowflakes

I told you before, I don’t want out of this marriage. And if you give me nothing but daughters for the next twenty years, I would consider myself blessed.

In united families, they might sleep with half filled stomach but no one sleeps with empty stomach.

I once heard that contractions are like this: a belt around your middle that is tightened agonizingly in ever elongating instances that arrange themselves in a pattern of pain.

Irish people marry late, as a rule. We have that potato-famine DNA from the old country, that mentality where you don't give birth to anything until you have the potatoes all stored up to feed it. My ancestors were all shepherds who got married in their thirties and then stayed together for life, who had long and happy marriages, no doubt because they were already deaf. My grandparents courted for nine years before they married in 1933.

Is any child at birth, born in a cage?

I See the string of Time, surrendered on the wings of Neptune's birth, where the half-moon proclaims the divinity’s song with the rise of Maghrib- Saqib Abraham

I think we're all just doing our best to survive the inevitable pain and suffering that walks alongside us through life. Long ago, it was wild animals and deadly poxes and harsh terrain. I learned about it playing The Oregon Trail on an old IBM in my computer class in the fourth grade. The nature of the trail has changed, but we keep trekking along. We trek through the death of a sibling, a child, a parent, a partner, a spouse; the failed marriage, the crippling debt, the necessary abortion, the paralyzing infertility, the permanent disability, the job you can't seem to land; the assault, the robbery, the break-in, the accident, the flood, the fire; the sickness, the anxiety, the depression, the loneliness, the betrayal, the disappointment, and the heartbreak. There are these moments in life where you change instantly. In one moment, you're the way you were, and in the next, you're someone else. Like becoming a parent: you're adding, of course, instead of subtracting, as it is when someone dies, and the tone of the occasion is obviously different, but the principal is the same. Birth is an inciting incident, a point of no return, that changes one's circumstances forever. The second that beautiful baby onto whom you have projected all your hopes and dreams comes out of your body, you will never again do anything for yourself. It changes you suddenly and entirely. Birth and death are the same in that way.

It is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and father, it is to identify you, It is not that you should be undecided, but that you should be decided, Something long preparing and formless is arrived and form'd in you, You are henceforth secure, whatever comes or goes. The threads that were spun are gather'd, the weft crosses the warp, the pattern is systematic. The preparations have every one been justified, The orchestra have sufficiently tuned their instruments, the baton has given the signal. The guest that was coming, he waited long, he is now housed, He is one of those who are beautiful and happy, he is one of those that to look upon and be with is enough.