Quotes About Suffocation

My hapless peers with their lofty dreams--how I envy and despise them! I'm with the others, the even more hapless, who have no-one but themselves to whom they can tell their dreams and show what would be verses if they wrote them. I'm with those poor slobs who have no books to show, who have no literature beside their own soul, and who are suffocating to death due to the fact that they exist without having taken that mysterious, transcendental exam that makes one eligible to live.

Waterboarding is slow-motion suffocation with enough time to contemplate the inevitability of blackout and expiration. Usually, the person goes into hysterics on the board. For the uninitiated, it is horrifying to watch. If it goes wrong, it can lead straight to terminal hypoxia - meaning, the loss of all oxygen to the cells.

I comfort myself with the knowledge that if Duval ever feels smothered by me, it will be because I am holding a pillow over his face.

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

Her throat felt constricted, breath

My nation, as all nations, is becoming a land without peace, without thought, without mind, Madam Abbess. We are suffocating our spirits in commercial and material things. This is not envy, said Mr. Konishi earnestly. I am a rich man, with much business, so I have succeeded in all these things, but I know that they are empty.

Rousseau and his disciples were resolved to force men to be free; in most of the world, they triumphed; men are set free from family, church, town, class, guild; yet they wear, instead, the chains of the state, and they expire of ennui or stifling lone lines.

Metal-binding is what happens when you wake up in the middle of the night and can't move, like some gigantically fat evil spirit is sitting on your chest.

The thought of squeezing back into his stifling pre-war life stopped his breath in panic. In truth, the only time he breathed easily was with Harry, whom he loved with that same red raw ferocity — and whom he'd love with passion given the chance. But he wouldn't get that chance. The world forbade it.

She had wanted to be a bird, but now she knew, as she looked out the window to see Lewis following, that even birds are chained to earth by their needs and desires.

How's our blue rose? the doctor asked. ... If you really want to know, I feel sorry for the poor thing, Elinor went on. All wrapped up that way. I'm starting to think there's no point in being a rose if you're tied up and covered with burlap.

His asthma was an expression of this dilemma: "I breathe in so much air but I must not breathe it out again, everything she gives me must be good for me, even if it stifles me." A look back at Proust's childhood casts light on the origins of this tragedy. It explains why he was inextricably bound up with his mother for so long and could not free himself of her influence, although he undoubtedly suffered as a result. Proust

He took a deep breath, as if he were taking the air from my own lungs and swallowing it for himself.

It was as if she had once been almost smothered and then allowed to live only if she limited her vocabulary and breathed hardly at all.

It is as if he has been drowning for as long as he can remember and somebody has fetched him up for air.

It often seemed to Eric that he was trapped and that he had been from the moment of his birth.

She would never tell him and he could stay in his room and never get any fresh air and die if he liked!

What are our lungs supposed to do? I shouted. Shouted: If they breathe fast they suffocate themselves from inner poisons; if they breathe slowly they suffocate from unbreathable air, from outraged things. But if they try to search for their own rhythm they perish from the mere search.

Without any way out, not even toward the depth.

Não existe haver , existe apenas um ser , um ser que deseja apenas um último suspiro, a asfixia.

Je?li b?dzie pan oddycha? szybko, udusi si? pan sob?, wewn?trzn? trucizn?; je?li b?dzie pan powoli oddycha?, udusi si? pan nie nadaj?cym si? dla p?uc powietrzem, zbuntowan? materi?. Je?li za? chcia? pan znale?? sobie w?asn? miar?, zginie pan ju? od samego poszukiwania.

Somos oprimidos por un silencio que nos ahoga y queremos romper.

Claustrophobia is a theme that I feel is really rife in 'Sound of my Voice' and struggling to come up for air from that feeling.

I was drowning in broad daylight and no one could tell.