Best 122 quotes in «heartbeat quotes» category

There is no other closeness in human life like the closeness between a mother and her baby - chronologically, physically, and spiritually they are just a few heartbeats away from being the same person.

The final heartbeat for the Christian is not the mysterious conclusion to a meaningless existence. It is, rather, the grand beginning to a life that will never end.

The government is a heartbeat away from nationalizing health care based on deliberate misinformation about the nation's uninsured and despite the 100 percent failure rate of such fantastic reforms elsewhere on the globe.

The muse on my shoulder is very sensitive and does not abide claptrap of any kind... Only when I am totally immersed... absorbed in work... does she allow something magical to happen and I become aware of a faint heartbeat and gentle breath emanating from my brush.

We all have music in us - your heartbeat is your drum, your voice is your sound - and music is supposed to put you in tune with nature.

There's a kind of ear music . . . a rhythmic synchronicity which creates a kind of heartbeat on the page.

The soundtrack in the poetry is the soundtrack from your own heartbeat.

Together, we can bring our planet's heartbeat back.

Vulnerability is the absolute heartbeat of innovation and creativity. There can be zero innovation without vulnerability.

We left no doubt that we are one heartbeat And something like that is pretty hard to stop Once it gets going

You think I'd cheat on you?" I demanded with all the innocent outrage I could muster. "With another guy, no. With a cheeseburger . . . in a heartbeat.

But the love of sisters needs no words. It does not depend on memories, or mementos, or proof. It runs as deep as a heartbeat. It is as ever present a s a pulse.

But when you’re a kid, it isn’t chaos. It’s just a heartbeat. Your house isn’t floating through space, it sits on the ground. Once you get old enough you start to see that color is just paint and doors are just wood. Then, at some point, that feeling of home vanishes entirely. And… that’s what I fear. That nothing will ever make me feel like I’m safe again. That once you leave home, you never get it back.

Cause when I hear your name I can not stop cheesing I love you so much that my heart stops beating when you're leaving And I'm grieving and my heart starts bleeding Life without you has no goddamn meaning

Charlie pulled their car out of the indoor garage, and the two of them drove together to the vet, Homer's panting loud in the back seat. As she ran her fingers through his pied coat while he stood shivering on the stainless-steel examining table, Nora realized there was no flesh between fur and bone. She kept telling herself that she was assuming the worst, but when the vet came in after the exams, the scans, she knew the news was terrible. She and Charlie held each other and cried, for Homer and for all the rest of it, as the vet gently pushed the plunger on the syringe and the dog's heart ceased to beat beneath their joined hands.

Each heartbeat begins with a single, electrical impulse, or "spark." The distinctive sound we hear through a stethoscope, or when we place our head on a loved one's chest, is the sound of the heart valves opening and closing in perfect synchronicity with each other. It is a two-party rhythm - a delicate dance of systole and diastole, which propels the heart's electrically charged particles through its chambers roughly every second of the day, every day of our lives.

Each stroke of your fingers is a different word that describes the story. By itself it’s meaningless, but—” I pushed down on a few fingers helping her play a few notes. “String them together and you have a melody. You have a story. So, Saylor, what story do you want to tell?

Find strength in your heartbeat, than weakness with a beat heart. Take each breath as another chance, and love for a new day.

Four of the cops stood back. As if joined by one brain, one beating heart, they stepped forward together and their batons descended. King knew she would remember, drifting toward sleep some day far removed, the solid thump the wood made falling upon him. It was the sound of the true heartbeat of the world, and once it had been heard, there was no way to stop hearing it. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. and what was it in that long and prolonged instant -- what was it that told her this pain would go on forever? What was happening there was no erasing. There would be no apologies, no forgetting, no reconciliations. Just the opening to the pain that is your friend dead or shot or starved or beaten.

Half asleep and half awake, I became lost in a deep span of my version of a perfect world. A place I wanted so desperately to reach, but would never find except from within the catacombs of my mind. A place where the sun rose in the west and set in the east, where the mountains bowed to the wind like trees, and the rain sprinkled up from the ground below and onto the clouds above. A place where no one hurt or lost, or felt any tinge of desperation. A place where heartbeats were the only words needed, and music floated on the wind like dust. A place where no place was home. Where a single person could be the only sustenance needed to survive. A place where there were no yesterdays or todays, only tomorrows. A place for me to find solace, an escape from the real world I was forced to live in.

I didn't know until then how much i liked him. I liked the way he called me Miss Okomma. I liked they way he said it, how he didn't hesitate, didn't stumble, as though he'd practised it. I thought about it too much, about him too much; the space between each thought getting shorter and shorter until days became hours became minutes became heartbeats and then he was all I could think about.

I do it to remind myself of everything. My heart was beating through the worst parts of my life and, if it’s still beating, its a reminder that I’m still alive, despite everything.

If we feel affected by the dreariness of the mad scramble, we have to stand back, take a break and override the droning humdrum of the treadmill; and let the exaltation of the day decide; and follow inspiring pathways to the true heartbeat of our life. ("Mutatis mutandi")

I kissed him softly and left my lips pressed to his for a few beats of my heart.

Willpower is breath and heartbeat of life; Life blooms in the girdle of taut willpower.

You are in a place that has not been seen for tens of thousands of years, because it was so sealed off. There is such silence that when you hold your breath you can hear your own heartbeat. Everything is so fresh that you have the sensation that the painters have merely retreated deeper into the dark and that they are looking at you.

A great book increases my heartbeat as if I’m prey, melts my insides in anticipation of a first kiss, immerses me in its depths.

A great director gives life to a work of art- gives it a heartbeat… a pulse… opens its eyes to the world.

And Esme remembered in a rush--the wolfsong, the haunting, lyrical spirals of it in the dawn quiet and the feeling of euphoria that had attended it. Even in recollection the howling uplifted her like the crescendo at the end of a symphony and made her heartbeat quicken.

A second later, Douglas Bruce entered. Rushing to Leslie he caught her to his breast roughly, while with a strong hand he pressed her ear against his heart. ‘Now you listen, my girl!’ he cried, ‘Listen at close range.’ Leslie remained quiet a long second, then she lifted her face: adorable misty-eyed, and tenderly smiling. ‘Douglas, I never listened to a heart before. How do I know what it is saying? I can’t tell whether it is talking about me, or protesting against the way you’ve rushed around.

As long as I can hear the sweet melody of your words, I need not; The angel’s secret, to be whispered in my ears As long as I can lace your silky fingers round my own, I need not; Pretty diamonds, nor big cash nor gold As long as I can watch the handsome sunshine of your face, I need not; Open skies, nor snowfall, nor the rain As long as I can gaze into the emeralds of your eyes, I need not; New colors, new wings or paradise As long as I can feel the tender tickle of your breath, I need not; The drifting wind, nor its call, nor caress As long as I can feel your soft lips upon mine, I need not; Melted sugar, nor the most expensive of wines As long as I can feel your warm body close to me I need not; A blanket, nor a bonfire's luxury As long as I can see you every morning I wake, I need not; A mirror, nor a cloud, nor shade As long as I can keep you in every petal of memories I need not: Dreams, nor desires, nor fantasies And as long as I can hold you in every moment that I breathe, I need not; Oxygen, nor blood, nor heartbeats.

Could I hold your hands for a moment, and your heart forever?

Distance unites missing beats of two hearts in love

Echo of the waves appears in the sky, their lights reflected in your eyes. I'm back in our world and happy again. The sound of your voice, compassionate embrace... The power in your touch, serenity of stride... The beating of your heart calms down my presence, gracing with eternal peace of mind... Bathing in the sunshine of your arms I'm deeply aware of the melodic stream that has no language...gliding beneath the quiet Heaven of your eyes...

Flowers enshrine my heart between their petals; that's why my heartbeats love them so much

Has your heartbeat ever been so loud it sounded like voices in your ears?

He grabbed my hand and that’s when I felt my heart beat for the very first time.

Hell was full of clocks, he was sure of it. There was no torment, after all, that could not be exacerbated by a contemplation of time passing. The large case clock at the end of the corridor had a particularly penetrating tick-tock, audiable above and through all the noises of the house. It seemed to Lord John Grey to echo his own heartbeats, each one a step on the road towards death.

If we don’t live by God’s heartbeat, by what He has in His heart, then we are wasting our time and life

I know my fickle heart still beats because of my mother's heartbeat.

I'm your other half. (...) I'll carry your heartbeat in mine.

Ingrid's skin was the smoothest texture, so pale that it was transparent. I could see the blue veins that ran down her arms, and they made her seem fragile somehow. the way Eric Daniels, my first boyfriend, seemed fragile when I laid my head on his chest and heart his heart beating and thought, Oh. People don't always remember about the blood and the heartbeat. But whenever I looked at Ingrid, I was reminded of the things that kept her alive.

It was soothing to sit with life-long friends, the cacophony of bar sounds around us while we caught up on our lives and talked about the glory days of high school. My life since then had been on an accelerated trajectory, not always aimed in the best direction. I acquired a sense of well-being from those friends who married their high school sweethearts, set up housekeeping a stone's throw from where they grew up, and kept the heartbeat of small-town living beating rhythmically.

In the dull, persistent beat of her heart, she hears the rhythm of hope. It is faint and thin as a thread, but it is there.

Listening to her heartbeat, 'I love you' He said.

I’ve become your heartbeat making you mine Upon every kiss of passion our souls shine

love is a choice between heart and mind.

Love is the name of an irrepressible moment formed inside one complete pulsation of a heart

Maybe all you need to do is find the heartbeat in everything. And if writing is living, the discovery of the beat of a heart, then when you read me, you are living by my side.

...music, if it really resonates, will beat somewhere right near your heartbeat. That music will make sense to you...because it's in rhythm with your soul.