Quotes About Breath

And giving it a happy ending, when all know that tales never end, and the happy ending is but a moment to catch one's breath before the next disaster.

He took a deep breath that whispered into his lungs.

Katie looked up at the seamless blue sky and drew in a deep breath. The pure oxygen seemed only to fuel the fire that was burning inside her, the fire that burned for both Eli and for Africa. She was in love. She knew it. But for now, that was a truth that shouldn't be revealed to anyone. Not even Eli. As if he didn't already know.

Cada día está plagado de regalos. Para respetar su naturaleza no tenemos que guardarlos celosamente para nosotros. Su vida se realiza en el movimiento, en la inhalación y la exhalación de un aliento compartido. Nuestra labor y nuestra alegría se encuentran en la transmisión de los dones que recibimos y en la confianza de que aquello que lanzamos al universo siempre regresará.

Animated, released from stillness by the rain, Dendroalsia begins to move, branch by delicate branch unfolding to recreate the symmetry of overlapping fronds. As each stem uncurls, its tender center is exposed and all along the midline are tiny capsules, bursting with spores. Ready for rain, they release their daughters upon the updrafts of rising mist. The oaks once more are lush and green and the air smells rich with the breath of mosses.

In return for the privilege of breath

We are showered every day with gifts, but they are not meant for us to keep. Their life is in their movement, the inhale and the exhale of our shared breath.

Respiration—the source of energy that lets us farm and dance and speak. The breath of plants gives life to animals and the breath of animals gives life to plants. My breath is your breath, your breath is mine. It's the great poem of give and take, of reciprocity that animates the world. Isn't that a story worth telling? Only when people understand the symbiotic relationships that sustain them can they become people of corn, capable of gratitude and reciprocity

A leaf, bathed in light with stomates wide open to the breath of the air, is not unlike the writer musing in the dark and mind wide open to wisps of thought as amorphous as the atmosphere. We both are sifting and winnowing from the unending flow of materials so ubiquitous as to be invisible, those particular molecules from which life can be built.

In the past week or so, she was noticing some minor pains, small episodes of shortness of breath. Probably because she had a fairly decent-sized lifeform hanging off her spine, pummeling her lungs, playing soccer with her bladder. You know, the usual baby games.

Oxygen tanks.

Air. You couldn't see it, but you couldn't live without it. It didn't weigh anything, but it had all the weight in the world. It was like a bad riddle. It was even free. All you had to do was breathe.

the human body is a miniature version of the universe - the eyes and ears are the sun and moon, breath is air, blood is rain.

When you're held underwater, you think only of air.

Everyone knows that the human body is a miniature version of the universe—the eyes and ears are the sun and moon, breath is air, blood is rain.

there is nothing certain in life but death. We may labor under the delusion that we know what the day ahead of us holds, what the hour holds. But we don't. We may think that our death—our very certain death—is something distant and remote, an island we might never visit. But for some of us, it's right here, waiting. Just pay attention. You can feel its breath on your neck. I am the agent of uncertainty.

The past is gone. The future is a fantasy. There is only the breath, the moment.

The door to the cottage was open. She was standing there in her nightdress, breathing deeply of the daybreak air. She was tall and slender, with coppery hair that fell in curls around her shoulders. Hearing him, she turned to Jonas and smiled. He thought he heard her say, "I see the sun." Indeed, the sky was pink with dawn light. Then Jonas looked past Claire and saw Gabe approaching on the path.   THE END

Stand before his grave and use your gift of breath to complain of your limited time. If you dare.

Between one breath and the next, the vision took him. It came not as a chain of reason, more words words words, but as a blinding image, all complete in its first moment, inherent, holistic, gestalt, inspired. Every hour of his life from now on would be but the linear exploration of its fullness.

I love you as I love breath— His heart rocketed. But I can't be your annex. And crashed. I don't understand. I don't know how to put it plainer. You'd swallow me up the way an ocean swallows a bucket of water. I'd disappear in you. I love you, but I'm terrified of you, and of your future.

He blew out his breath and sat back. He'd almost wished for some clever evil plot, which they could then engage to out-clever. It could be surprisingly hard to counter Plain Stupid. Even by heroic measures.

Callan took a deep breath. "I never expected you." He shook his head with an edge of amusement. "You are a dangerous woman, Merinus Tyler." "Naw, just a determined woman." She grinned against his shoulder. "I know a good thing when I see it jacking off.

It was my baby, too." His voice was husky, filled with regret, with pain. "But even more than that, Sherra, you're my soul. You're every breath I take. I would give my life to have saved you. I would give it now if it would mean I could go back and spare you this pain." The dampness from his eyes soaked the swarthy complexion, lined with pain and regret. "I would do anything, everything, baby, to ease this pain for you.