Quotes About Breath

I go running three times a week - outside in the park, come rain or shine, and I hate every moment of it. I hate everything about it. But I know it's important for health reasons and the reason why I run, in particular, is because my stage work is like cardiovascular work so I don't want to lose my breath on stage.

I want my portraits to create a space where blackness can breathe.

Any pose that is an arch will open the chest cavity and is excellent for energizing the body.

I meditate. I breathe out what I can't control and focus on the positives.

The first breath of air of Africa - it felt like you were in another continent - you were, you were - and it was different.

It's hard to act in a corset. Your breath gets cut off. You're squashed.

I meditate. Just counting my breath. Before I do anything, really.

Every breath we take, every step we make, can be filled with peace, joy and serenity.

I've never seen a moon in the sky that, if it didn't take my breath away, at least misplaced it for a moment.

I've suffered rib injuries, but I've never had a broken one. I've dislocated it and popped it, and even that, a big step down from broken, it hurts so bad. But you can't really move. You can't even fully breathe and take a deep breath of air.

For a moment you are asleep in my heart. What more can I ask for? I am rocking inside your breaths. I have turned into the words you whisper. When I speak to you, I clothe my heart with your heart. When you tighten and tremble into love, these dreams wander into distant fields and leave no tracks, I have never been so lost, I have never been so certain of where I am. from "The Story

Is there any way we can purely touch the world again, the way a salamander does, breathing through its skin? Can we become the strands of this shrine we weave ourselves into hoping to emerge into a world where—where what? There is no end to desire, which means no end to regret, no end to our need for an ending, so that even the sky refuses our touch, that sky which, at its bluest, is the most empty.

The dust of the sunshine was borne along and breathed, steeped in flower and pollen to the music of bees and birds, the stream of the atmosphere became a living thing. It was life to breathe it, for the air itself was life. The strength of the earth went up through the leaves into the wind. Fed thus on the food of the Immortals, the heart opened to the width and depth of the summer—to the broad horizon afar, down to the minutest creature in the grass, up to the highest swallow.

He leaped, shrieking, off the bed, and sprang at me, clasping my throat with his horrid hands, bearing me backwards on to the floor; I felt his breath mingle with mine * * * and then God, in His mercy, sent oblivion.

We are all of us blue babies. At critical seconds, we all lack necessary air.

It smells good in here", Ostin said. "It's garlic the woman said, smiling. "Garlic always smells good. Except on your breath.

What we fail to realize is that grace is more than our destination, it is the journey itself, manifested in each breath and with each step we take. Grace surrounds us, whirls about us like the wind, falls on us like rain. Grace sustains us on our journeys, no matter how perilous they may be and, make no mistake, they are all perilous. We need not hope for grace, we merely need to open our eyes to its abundance. Grace is all around us, not just in the hopeful future but in the miracle of now.

In the span of one hundred and forty seconds I have transformed once again. I spill out of the seat, and to the back of the white beast, the crisp night air filling my lungs…There is plenty of life out here. Hands shoved into my coat pockets, the laughter of a circus clown echoing in the alleyways between tiny houses, the brick apartment buildings, the long warehouses that extend away from me. And already I can feel my hands on his neck.

I took a deep breath and said: "I fell in love with a vampire." And like that, I was blinded by light.

I took a deep breath. "Are you free tonight?" There was a long, pregnant pause. "What about the man in the dream?" he finally asked. "There is no man in the dream.

THE BREATHING, THE ENDLESS NEWS each god is empty without us, penitent, raking our yards into windblown piles. . . . Children know this: they are the trailings of gods.

The President sucked in his breath sharply. He also sucked in a big fly that happened to be passing at the time. He choked.

Are you breathing? Are you here? Did you just take a breath? Are you about to take another? Do you have a habit of regularly doing this? Gift. Gift. Gift. Whatever else has happened in your life—failure, pain, heartache, abuse, loss—the first thing that can be said about you is that you have received a gift. Often

You just took a breath. You're about to take another. Inhale, then exhale, then another inhale. In and out. There's a rhythm to your breathing. It's the same with nature.