Quotes About Breath

The outbreath is like a whetstone, and the mind is like the knife or sword that is being sharpened on that stone. When you sharpen a knife, you draw the blade of the knife across the sharpening stone. Following your outbreath is like drawing the blade of mind across the breath. Then

How lovely was each breath. How peculiar that one had never noticed.

There's not more power in a lot of people praying because the power comes from God and not the people. But what happens when many pray for the same thing is an opportunity for God's glory. Everything comes back to the glory of God. Everything in history, the purpose of our lives, is the glory of God. Every breath we take.

In my dream, I have hands," Walter repeated softly under his breath.

Yes, perhaps what she was looking for among the children was shelter. Their light precarious breath, their small hands holding one's own. And the fact that only important things are important to them. Love, for example, she can't help still believing in it, somewhat. When doubts came--love, what is it? can it help to shift a single speck of dust?--then sometimes she thought back to the little schoolhouse...

Holding our breath or breathing shallowly always stops us from feeling. And to heal anything, we have to feel it. So breathe mindfully whenever possible. I have the word breathe posted in strategic places throughout my home and office.

Bob Fritchie suggests that you stay connected with Divine Love by having an intention to reconnect every time you go to the bathroom. Just say, "I now connect with Divine Love," and pulse your breath.

Glory, battle, great momentsss, are where we give to the world. But we cannot give without receiving. We cannot share what we do not have inside. It is this quiet, the pause between breathsss, that makes us what we truly are. Gives us ssstrength for all our journeys.

I charge you at the Judgement make it plain, My love of you was life and not a breath.

Udii il suo respiro; non so per quanto tempo, ma lo udii chiaramente, poi lei riattaccò. Io sarei rimasto a lungo così, con il ricevitore in mano, solo per sentirla respirare.

Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time.

They stand close for a while, not touching, but breathing each other's breath. The city is silent now, as if for peace.

I did not know what breath meant until she died. It was everything that gave me quickness and life: it was thought, feeling, animation. Without it there was nothing.

For maybe this is how poetry can be of use. Though it can't move with us, we can move it between us, pass it among us, so it is held up by our voices, so it moves with our breath, our living breath.

The stars wire the sky together and the crickets fill the shadows of the earth with their breath.

Low clouds move fast over the Ridings. It is raining hard. The cattle lie under the trees in the gale, their flanks dark and soaked, their breaths steaming in the air.

She breathes hot hawk breath in my face.

I take a few deep breaths before I begin to speak, and I listen to the sounds in the room—this gets me focused and really present with my audience.

To photograph is to hold one's breath, when all faculties converge to capture fleeting reality. It's at that precise moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy.

Our life is nothing, it is true, but our life is divine. A breath of nature annihilates us, but we surpass nature in penetrating far beyond her vast phantasmagoria to the changeless and the eternal.

BODY OF LONELINESS She entered my foot with her foot and she entered my waist with her snow. She entered my heart saying, "Yes, that's right." And so the Body of Loneliness was covered from without, and from within the Body of Loneliness was embraced. Now every time I try to draw a breath she whispers to my breathlessness, "Yes, my love, that's right, that's right.

Here the destruction is subtle, and there the body is torn. Here the breaking is perceived, and there the dead unaware carry their putrid remains. All trade in filth, carry their filth one to another, all walk the streets as though the ground did not recoil, all stretch their necks to bite the air, as though the breath had not withdrawn. The seed bursts without a blessing, and the harvest is gathered as if it were food.

Kindle the darkness of my calling, let me cry to the one who judges the heart in justice and mercy. Arouse my heart again with the limitless breath you breathe into me, arouse the secret from obscurity.

O master of my breath, create a man around these nostrils, and gather my heart toward the gravity of your name. Form me again with an utterance and open my mouth with your praise. There is no life but in affirming you, no world to walk on but the one which you create.