Quotes About Suffocation

There are districts in which the position of the rural population is that of a man standing permanently up to the neck in water, so that even a ripple is sufficient to drown him.

I feel like a mosquito being squeezed.

There is no power on earth that can loosen a man's grip on his own throat

The air of reality is too thick for me I choke on it I must live on shadows Even my poetry is vicarious.

There is no power on earth that can loosen a man's grip on his own throat

Nay is it not rather the very murkiness, and atmospheric suffocation, that brings the lightning and the light? The new Evangel, as the old had been, was it to be born in the Destruction of a World?

The price we paid for the volumes of ourselves that we suffocated in the dark.

I'm alone and am suffocating because I'm unable to give voice to my emotions.

I've been choking to death for years. By now this should be easy.

Too much school. Would you rather be dead?! Would you rather die? Here, on your knees in the back of a convenience store?!

You could choke on the silence.

Deseaba respirar humo.

Podrías ahogarte con tanto silencio.

This was a house of foul breath and bad dreams.

Being in a room with that many people was starting to make me itch.

July, that lovely hell, all velvet dresses and drapes stuffed into a hot little hole.

When I built my luminous prison around you, you simply lay down at the center of it and died.

Well, I keep forgetting. You never listened to my suggestions. Never asked for my advice. When I built my luminous prison around you, you simply lay down at the center of it and died.

YOU WILL DIE OF SUFFOCATION IN THE ICY COLD OF SPACE.

That long-ago day, sitting in this very spot on the dock, she had already begun to feel it: how hard it would be to inherit their parents' dreams. How suffocating to be so loved.

How suffocating to be so loved

They settle on her with their dark wings then, nearly suffocating her: all of her many mistakes of motherhood.

It was a foggy day in London, and the fog was heavy and dark. Animate London, with smarting eyes and irritated lungs, was blinking, wheezing, and choking; inanimate London was a sooty spectre, divided in purpose between being visible and invisible, and so being wholly neither.

Master Bates saw something so exquisitely ludicrous in this reply, that he burst into another laugh; which laugh, meeting the coffee he was drinking, and carrying it down some wrong channel, very nearly terminated in his premature suffocation.