Best 814 quotes in «breathing quotes» category

Hardy Cates," I said, coming into the room, "you behave, or I'll step on your tube." The nurse seemed taken aback by my unsympathetic bedside manner. But Hardy's gaze met mine in a moment of bright, hot voltage, and he relaxed, reassured in a way that cooing sympathy could never have done. "That only works if it's a breathing tube," he told me.

Has the dark shadow really disappeared? Or is it inside me, concealed, waiting for its chance to reappear? Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness, and a blind spot. Everywhere you find silent hints, everywhere a surprise is waiting for you.

He also didn't mind Piper's using him for a pillow. She had a cute way of breathing when she slept - inhaling through the nose, exhaling with a little puff through the mouth. He was also disappointed when she woke up.

He broke the kiss and leaned against her, breathing hard. "Good morning to you, too. Man, I just can't stay mad when you do that.

He’d moved toward me again. His hands released mine and moved to my waist, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one breathing heavily. He pulled me to him, bringing our bodies together. The world was all heat and electricity, thick with tension that was only one spark away from exploding around us. I was balancing on another precipice, which wasn’t easy to do in heels. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and this time I was the one who drew him closer.

He'd made her feel what Barrons made me feel. Bigger than I could possibly be, larger than life, on fire with possibilities, ecstatic to be breathing, impatient for the next moment together. She'd been happy in those last months, so alive and happy.

Here is the key to existence. Are you listening? Here is the key to existence; when I tell you this you will know how to run your lives. You will know if you have been living life to the full, and if you realize you haven't been, you will know immediately how to correct that state of affairs. As soon as I tell you the key to existence. Are you ready? Are you ready for me to tell you?... Always breathe. That's the basis of life, breathing. That's basically the basis. If you don't breathe, you die.

Her friendship . . . still existed, as if it was a living, breathing thing, something that came to life the moment it happened and didn't just go away because they no longer acknowledged it.

He was, like everyone of a strongly erotic disposition, twice as good, twice as much himself when he knew that women liked him, just as many actors find their most ardent vein when they sense that they have cast their spell over the audience, the breathing mass of spectators before them.

He walked out of the hospital into the sun, into open air for the first time in months, out of the green-lit rooms that lay like glass in his mind. He stood there breathing everything in, the hurry of everyone. First, he thought, I need shoes with rubber on the bottom. I need gelato.

He was sure that he was not the cause of the abrupt silence. His passage through the canyon had not previously disturbed either birds or cicadas. Something was out there. An intruder of which the ordinary forest creatures clearly did not approve. He took a deep breath and held it again, straining to hear the slightest movement in the woods. This time he detected the rustle of brush, a snapping twig, the soft crunch of dry leaves-and the unnervingly peculiar, heavy, ragged breathing of something big.

He was the ghost you never saw coming, death breathing down your neck before you even realized you were in the crosshairs.

He was not looking forward to breaking the law. He was straight now. He'd matured. Crime no longer excited him. What?' Ronald said. I didn't say anything.' You're breathing heavy.

He was staring straight ahead, still breathing hard. “I have something I want to give you.” “I gathered that.” At that he jerked his gaze back to hers and almost reluctantly grinned. “Not that.

He willed his body to remain unaffected. Sabin would fuss if Strider sported a hard-on around his precious. And, of course, "fuss" meant Strider would find his intestines wrapped around his neck, breathing a thing of the past.

His eyes made a slow scan of my closet doors, which were cracked. “I thought I heard something.” “Yeah, well, guess what? I’m a living, breathing person, and every now and then I make noise!

He would go somewhere no one knew him, and he would sit in a library all day and read books and listen to people breathing.

Hip-hop as a culture itself goes through stages. It grows - it's breathing, living. I've noticed that we usually start off conscious, then we wind up very highly sexual, and then we thug it out. Then things get a little funny again, with comedy and that kind of thing.

His face was in my neck and he was breathing hard. Was he grieving me? Already? Would he miss me? Had I, in some tiny way, come to matter to this enigmatic, hard, brilliant, obsessed man? I realised he'd come to matter to me. Good or evil, right or wrong, he mattered to me.

Hold your horses. I'm coming."... "From where I'm standing you're just breathing laboriously." The snow swam out of focus. "Breathing hard. Are you coming or just breathing hard. You've got to get your one-liners straight.

How do you know if someone needs encouragement? If they are breathing!

How agreeable to watch, from the other side of the high stile, this mighty creature, this fat bull of Bashan, snorting, champing, pawing the earth, lashing the tail, breathing defiance at heaven and at me ... his heart hot with hate, unable to climb a stile.

How can a deer tell when a leaf falls silent in the forest? She hears it breathing differently.

How do you deal with meditating when you stop breathing? The trick is to meditate just a little higher and you won't even know that you're not breathing.

How do you identify someone who needs encouragement? That person is breathing.

Hunt seemed similarly indifferent to the show, his head inclined toward hers, his gaze locked on her face. Though his breathing remained soft and disciplined, it seemed to her that its rhythm had changed ever so slightly. Annabelle moistened her dry lips. “You …you mustn’t stare at me like that.” Soft as the murmur was, he caught it. “With you here, nothing else is worth looking at.

How to sustain the miracle Of being, that like a muted bell, Or like some ocean-breathing shell, Quivers, intense and still?

Husbands and wives should have separate interests, cultivate different sets of friends and not impose on the other... You can't spend a lifetime breathing down each other's necks... We are very, very different people and yet somehow we fed off those varied differences and instead of separating us, it has made the whole bond a lot stronger.

"I am breathing in and liberating my mind. I am breathing out and liberating my mind." One practices like this.

I also have a routine with breathing and visualization techniques that I go through when I feel overwhelmed or nervous.

I almost think that hope is for the soul what breathing is for the living organism. Where hope is lacking the soul dries up and withers.

I also swim four to five times a week, and once you get rolling into a rhythm of breathing and movement, your mind can truly untether, which I find so refreshing.

I am always the better for open-air breathing, and was certainly meant for the wandering life of the Indian.

I am living breathing freedom.

I am the number one human being in music. That means any person that's living or breathing is number two.

I am neither Christian enough nor charitable enough to like anybody just because he is alive and breathing. I want people to interest or amuse me. I want them fascinating and witty or so dul as to be different. I want them either intellectually stimulating or wonderfully corny; perfectly charming or hundred percent stinker. I like my chosen companions to be distinguishable from the undulating masses and I don't care how.

I bring my attention to my hands on the steering wheel and notice how the chatter in my mind begins to fall away as my breathing slows. I'm awake and alive, simply driving the car going where I need to go, on time and in time. A still point of the turning world. With that awareness, I bring my attention into my body, and the body is the doorway to the timeless, because the body is always where we are and always in the present moment.

I and you-We are infinate, rich, large, contradictory, living, breathing miracles-free human beings, children of God and the everlasting universe. That's what we do.

I cannot imagine life without books any more than I can imagine life without breathing.

I can only wonder what astronauts must feel like or something like that when you're really in the space of silence and you are feeling and breathing in a way that you're really aware of your muscle and bone and the breath and the body and the movement and all of those things that just you take for granted in the urban landscape.

I can never understand why people who have not seen me for a while ask if I am still writing. They might as well ask me if I am still breathing.

I don't know how to talk about technology in a positive or negative way because it's just the way the world is to me. It seems like talking about the advantages of breathing through holes in our face instead of holes that lead more directly to the lungs.

I closed my eyes and he kissed my eyelids, barely brushing them with his lips. I felt safe, at home. I felt as if here, against his body, was the only place in which I belonged. The only place I had ever wanted to be. We lay in silence for a while, holding each other, our skin merging, our breathing synchronized. I felt as if silence might allow the moment to last for ever, which would still not be enough.

i could see the veins through your skin like a map to inside you. how could skin be that thin? i was so afraid you might drop and break. i stopped breathing so you wouldn't.

I come from the theatre, my bones are in the theatre; it’s as natural as breathing to want to be in the theatre

I contend that Bush would be a lot more moderate if there weren't some fundamentalists breathing down his neck every time he wants to establish the state of Israel, every time he wants to do justice for the Palestinian people.

I'd like to have James Brown as my singer. I already have the best drummer, Tommy Clufetos. I've jammed a bunch with John Entwistle, and it was like a musical orgy. That guy is a living, breathing, grunting rhythm. For horns, let's go with the Stax/Volt guys, and I'm going to have Steve Cropper on standby just in case I want a rhythm guitarist.

I do not believe that there was ever a question of being abstract or representational. It is really a matter of ending this silence and solitude, of breathing, and stretching one's arms again transcendental experiences became possible.

I don't have any choice any more. I am in a choiceless awareness. I don't have to be aware. I am simply aware. Now it is just like my heartbeat or like my breathing. Even if I try not to be aware, it is not possible; the very effort will make me more aware. Awareness is not a quality, a characteristic; it is your whole being. When you become aware, there is no choice left to be otherwise.

I don't want to live anywhere where I'm breathing two million cars' fumes and paying a zillion dollars for the right to be totally hassled.