Best 3705 quotes in «air quotes» category

Ikiwa hakuna kitu kinafanyika katika maisha yako usijali. Kuna kitu kinafanyika – kuingia na kutoka kwa hii pumzi.

i love good cries, loud sobs that soak your pillow that kind that come at the end of a perfect book you're gasping for air as droplets of salt water trickle down your cheeks into the corners of your mouth as your chest rises and falls and your vision is blurred by the tears but your mind is so clear and your every thought in that moment feels so meaningful and important and right it feels okay to just let it all out it makes you feel like you are free

In the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal.

In 2019, it had emerged that I had a hypersensitivity to polluted indoor air that would cause daytime sleepiness, chronic fatigue and malaise. Thoroughly ventilating the indoor environment with fresh outdoor air daily would reduce the symptoms. The medical profession calls this Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS).

In addition to water, air, earth and fire, there is a fifth element essential for life: his name is poetry.

I never knew I liked to be outside so much. I never knew I liked lochs and views and that, but I could seriously handle living in a cottage by the side of somewhere like this." The Panopticon

Inside her head or out in the desert was the same, and the air inside her throat was very dry to keep from crying and her neck sore from forcing herself not to look down, not to look back.

I'm like my cat. I run around in circles in my apartment, because the big bad outside is just too big. And scary. And outside. How do stray cats deal with all the stress of having no protection from all the air that’s going on around there, without anyone to guide and control it into timidity?

Inflate yourself with a genuine passion always. This makes it possible for you to bounce back when you fall. The football is loaded with air and no sooner does it hit the floor than it bounces back again!

In the waltz of the leaves in the air In the features of the playful clouds In the nostalgia carried by the wind In Paris alone, I save your love (fragment from Your presence “partout”, chapter Hope)

In your honesty, I saw a reflection of myself. Or rather, of the man I longed to be. So I failed you. I didn’t stay away. Then, later, I thought if I had answers, it would be enough. I would no longer care. You would no longer matter. So I continued failing you. Continued wanting more. And now I can’t find the words to say what must be said. To convey to you the least of what I owe. When I think of you, I can’t find the air to b r e a t h e.

I opened my eyes and watched the water stream past me. I let out some of my air and gazed at the cascade of silver bubbles dancing up to the surface.

I only turn on my air conditioning when I start to sweat, which is typically sometime in the afternoon.

I seem to be allergic to whatever that terrible smell is," said Gateman when the urge to sneeze had finally subsided. "What terrible smell?" "The air," said Gateman. "It smells...different." "That's called oxygen," said Professor Boxley. "Freh air. No cars, no buses, no factories; just pure, clean oxygen.

I suspect she will be like air. Like knowing how to breathe.

I sit down by the river. Its incessant flow has polished the rocks carried from the top of the mountain. The aqueous caress, that has unrolled for millions of years the liquid ribbon from the summits towards the plains, keeps the freshness of the youth. The July sun heats the trees on the shore, while the stream of water refreshes the air; Two breaths which mingle without opposing one another. The foliage softly sways under the summer breeze, tuning its movement to that of the fiery wave. Won by a palpable peace, thank you Mother Nature, I dive into my book. A time later, which seems infinite to me, the sky becomes darker, I raise my head. How many hours have passed during which, indifferent to the human time, the cascading water has descended from the mountain? How much water has passed in front of me? How many beings have quenched their thirst there, and get their lives out from it? How long after my small passage on Earth will have been forgotten, the river will continue to flow, to carry its rocks, to erode the mountain until it becomes a plain, to spread life like a vein of the Earth ?

It is unnatural to fear something natural.

Mafanikio unapaswa kuyataka kama unavyotaka hewa. Hewa ni kitu cha muhimu zaidi kuliko kitu kingine chochote kile ulimwenguni. Ukipewa hewa au shilingi bilioni kumi chagua hewa.

I took a glass retort, capable of containing eight ounces of water, and distilled fuming spirit of nitre according to the usual method. In the beginning the acid passed over red, then it became colourless, and lastly again all red: no sooner did this happen, then I took away the receiver; and tied to the mouth of the retort a bladder emptied of air, which I had moistened in its inside with milk of lime lac calcis, (i.e. lime-water, containing more quicklime than water can dissolve) to prevent its being corroded by the acid. Then I continued the distillation, and the bladder gradually expanded. Here-upon I left every thing to cool, tied up the bladder, and took it off from the mouth of the retort.— I filled a ten-ounce glass with this air and put a small burning candle into it; when immediately the candle burnt with a large flame, of so vivid a light that it dazzled the eyes. I mixed one part of this air with three parts of air, wherein fire would not burn; and this mixture afforded air, in every respect familiar to the common sort. Since this air is absolutely necessary for the generation of fire, and makes about one-third of our common air, I shall henceforth, for shortness sake call it empyreal air, [literally fire-air] the air which is unserviceable for the fiery phenomenon, and which makes abut two-thirds of common air, I shall for the future call foul air [literally corrupted air].

It would appear that the blue sky is actually produced by the solar wind and solar radiation exciting air molecules to emit light, just like a neon lamp!

Nothing wins more loyalty for a leader than an air of bravura," the Duke said. "I, therefore, cultivate an air of bravura.

Murphy hakupenda kupoteza muda. Alinyanyuka na kumimina risasi, Mungu akamsaidia akadondosha wawili huku wengine wakipotea kwa kuruka vibaya na kukwepa. Kwa kasi Murphy alikimbia huku ameinama mpaka katika milango mikubwa ya nje, ambayo sasa ilikuwa wazi. Hapo akasita. Chochote kingeweza kumpata kwa nje kama hangekuwa mwangalifu. Bunduki yake ilishakwisha risasi. Aliitupa na kuchungulia nje akaona adui mmoja akikatisha kwenda nyuma ambako ndiko mashambulizi yalikokuwa yakisikika sasa. Murphy hakumtaka huyo. Aligeukia ndani kuona kama kulikuwa na bunduki aichukue lakini hata kisu hakikuwepo. Akiwa bado anashangaa, ghafla alitokea adui – kwa ndani – na kurusha risasi, bahati nzuri akamkosa Murphy. Murphy, kama mbayuwayu, aliruka na kusafiri hewani hapohapo akadondoka nyuma ya tangi la gesi karibu na milango ya nje. Alipoona vile, adui alidhani Murphy alidondoka mbali. Alibung’aa asijue la kufanya. Wasiwasi ulipomzidi alishindwa kuvumilia. Alishika bunduki kwa nguvu na kupiga kelele, "Yuko hukuuu!" Halafu akajificha ili Murphy asimwone. Lakini Murphy alikuwa akimwona.

No air, no balloons!

Msamaha si jambo dogo. Watu wadogo, watu wenye uwezo mdogo wa kufikiri, hawawezi kupambana na changamoto za msamaha. Msamaha ni kwa ajili ya watu wenye macho kama ya tai wanaoweza kuona mbali ambao wako tayari kushindwa vita ili washinde vita. Hewa inaingia ndani ya mapafu na kutoka; chakula kinaingia ndani ya mwili na kutoka; mwanamasumbwi anapigana bila kugombana; injini ya gari haiwezi kusukuma gari mbele au nyuma bila kutoa hewa katika paipu ya ekzosi. Lakini kile kinachoingia moyoni mwako hakitoki! Maumivu yanapoingia ndani ya moyo yanapaswa kutoka nje kama yalivyoingia kwa sababu, yasipotoka yatatengeneza sumu ndani ya moyo wako na yatatengeneza sumu ndani ya roho yako pia. Sumu hiyo itahatarisha safari yako ya mbinguni na Mungu hatakusamehe tena. Badala ya yule aliyekukosea kuumia, utaumia wewe uliyekosewa. Yesu anaposema samehe saba mara sabini hatanii. Usiposamehe, hutasamehewa.

O Heavenly Children, do not forget that God is here, there and everywhere. The birds are his eyes and the air is his ears. And as you sleep, your heart and soul rest naked before him. He can drink from the rivers of your thoughts, and even feel the wetness of your tears.

Once ether was everywhere. The crook of an arm, say. (Also the heavens.) It slowed the movement of the stars, told the left hand where the right hand went. Then it was gone, like hysteria, like the hollow earth. The news came over the radio. There is only air now. Abandon your experiments.

On Caladan, we ruled with sea and air power," the Duke said. "Here, we must scrabble for desert power. This is your inheritance, Paul.

One of my astronomy managers used to tell me that liquid nitrogen was harmless and was just liquid air. He would pour it onto his bare hands to demonstrate how safe he thought it was. I was later to realize that incompetence was a feature of high altitude astronomy.

oxygen Everything needs it: bone, muscles, and even, while it calls the earth its home, the soul. So the merciful, noisy machine stands in our house working away in its lung-like voice. I hear it as I kneel before the fire, stirring with a stick of iron, letting the logs lie more loosely. You, in the upstairs room, are in your usual position, leaning on your right shoulder which aches all day. You are breathing patiently; it is a beautiful sound. It is your life, which is so close to my own that I would not know where to drop the knife of separation. And what does this have to do with love, except everything? Now the fire rises and offers a dozen, singing, deep-red roses of flame. Then it settles to quietude, or maybe gratitude, as it feeds as we all do, as we must, upon the invisible gift: our purest, sweet necessity: the air.

One of the problems with climate change, global warming and global air pollution is that it may change the frequency and intensity of electrical storm activity. Too much lightning activity may cause excessive mating, aggression, fatigue, illness and disease to occur. Too little may turn off the animal and plant breeding cycles.

Pantulan awan di angkasa dan warna-warni matahari nyaris tenggelam, membuat dunia atas dan bawah menyatu. Seperti pelangi yang tidak berkesudahan. Seperti hujan yang tidak dapat lagi dilihat, apakah airnya mengalir dari atas ke bawah atau dari bawah ke atas?

People usualy use "move on" when their heart broke because of love. Most don't understand when father, mother, sister or brother has died, you might have needed more strength to move on. It was like living with no air.

People could say a lot of negative things about the apocalypse, but there was no arguing the air quality in Los Angeles had really improved.

People never like pollution, it has become very wrong to like pollution at all. But just like there are good and bad things about people, there are good and bad things about pollution. If people were pollution we would get rid of anyone who was different, anyone who was considered an inconvenience… but we’d be getting rid of a life, a lot of lives… because we didn’t like them. If pollution was a person would we still be trying to get rid of it? Would we have environmentalists still complaining and protesting and trying to get rid of all pollution?

People today have forgotten they're really just a part of nature. Yet, they destroy the nature on which our lives depend. They always think they can make something better. Especially scientists. They may be smart, but most don't understand the heart of nature. They only invent things that, in the end, make people unhappy. Yet they're so proud of their inventions. What's worse, most people are, too. They view them as if they were miracles. They worship them. They don't know it, but they're losing nature. They don't see that they're going to perish. The most important things for human beings are clean air and clean water.

Semua akan baik-baik saja selama aku bisa meloncat dan menyesap senyap di dalam air. Dalam air, semua kebisingan mereda. Air, tempatku bisa bersembunyi sebentar untuk kemudian kembali naik ke permukaan.

Rained gently last night, just enough to wash the town clean, and then today a clean crisp fat spring day, the air redolent, the kind of green minty succulent air you'd bottle if you could and snort greedily on bleak, wet January evenings when the streetlights hzzzt on at four in the afternoon and all existence seems hopeless and sad.

Putih itu bukan warna dari air murni. Kita saja yang terkadang salah memaknainya

She closed her eyes and held all her dreams between her fingers like a dandelion and just blew it. She smiled watching it fly through the air, making everything look beautiful around her while a tear rolled down her cheek.

So you intend to go through life never loving anyone? Just … things?” “No. I’m looking for something more.” “More than love?” “Yes.” “Is it not arrogant to think you deserve more, Khalid Ibn al-Rashid?” “Is it so arrogant to want something that doesn’t change with the wind? That doesn’t crumble at the first sign of adversity?” “You want something that doesn’t exist. A figment of your imagination.” “No. I want someone who sees beneath the surface-someone who completes the balance. An equal.” “And how will you know when you’ve found this elusive someone?” Shahrzad retorted. “I suspect she will be like air. Like knowing how to breathe.

The air is of silver and pearl, the night is liquid with moonlight.

The air of those rooms was saturated with the fine bouquet of a silence so nourishing, so succulent, that I never went into them without a sort of greedy anticipation, particularly on those first mornings, chilly still, of the Easter holidays, when I could taste it more fully because I had only just arrived in Combray[...]

The air around you is filled with floating atoms, sliding down the Earth's spacetime curve. Atoms first assembled in the cores of long-dead stars. Atoms within you, everywhere, disintegrating in radioactive decays. Beneath your feet, the floor - whose electrons refuse to let yours pass, thus making you able to stand and walk and run. Earth, your planet, a lump of matter made out of the three quantum fields known to mankind, held together by gravity, the so-called fourth force (even though it isn't a force), floating within and through spacetime.

That—this—is Orion’s secret. It’s not that the ship isn’t working, that we’re never going to make it. It’s that the ship has already arrived. We’re already here! There—there—is the planet that will be our home! It floats, so bright that it hurts my eyes. Giant green landmasses spread out across blue water, with swirls and wisps of clouds twirling over top. At the edge of the planet, where it turns away from the suns and starts to darken, I can see bright flashes of light—bursts of whiteness in the darkness—and I think: Is that lightning? In the center, where the light of the suns makes the planet seem to glow from within, I can see, very distinctly, a continent. A continent. On one edge, it’s cracked and broken like an egg, dark lines snaking deep into the landmass. Rivers. Lots of them. Maybe something too big to be rivers if I can see it from here. Fingers of land stretch out into the sea, and dots of islands are just out of their grasp. That area will be cool all the time, I think. Boats can go along the rivers, up and down. We can swim in the water. Because already, I can see myself living there. Being there. On a planet that looks up at a million suns every night, and at two every day. I want to scream, shout with joy. But the air is so thin now. Too thin. I’ve spent too long looking at Orion’s secret. The boop . . . boop . . . boop . . . fades away. There’s nothing to warn about now. Because there’s no air left. My sight is rimmed with black. My head pulses with my heartbeat, which sounds as loud to me as the alarm once did. I turn from the planet—my planet—and start pulling, hand over hand, against the tether, toward the hatch. The ship bobs in and out of my vision as my whole body jerks. I’m panicked now and fighting to stay awake. I try to suck in air, but there’s nothing there to suck. I’m drowning in nothing.

The air we breathe is still free, but for how much time. I believe someone is busy patenting it to start selling it for profit

The air is dry and light and its effect on the mind is similar to that of a glass of Champagne before dinner.

The air moves like a river and carries the clouds with it; just as running water carries all the things that float upon it.

The air outside was tomato-sweet and hickory-smoked, all at once delicious and strange. It automatically made her touch her tongue to her lips.

The air is still, yet, danger stirs in the distance making its way further downtown, deeper into the heart of the city.

The air you're breathing right now is also the same air that once circulated through the respiratory system of Jesus over 2000 years ago, which probably makes you feel a bit spiritual, doesn’t it? But unfortunately you’re also breathing the same air that once circulated through the body of Jack the Ripper, which probably makes you feel a bit shit