Quotes About Chest

I think memory is the most important asset of human beings. It's a kind of fuel; it burns and it warms you. My memory is like a chest: There are so many drawers in that chest, and when I want to be a fifteen-year-old boy, I open up a certain drawer and I find the scenery I saw when I was a boy in Kobe. I can smell the air, and I can touch the ground, and I can see the green of the trees. That's why I want to write a book.

breath, pressed an ear against his chest and took the poor fellow's pulse. While he worked, he asked about the

What about some kind of an ancient curse?'' Ancient Curse Kills Two. He could see the headlines now. ''Don't be an asshole.'' The reporter snatched the microphone to safety just in time and, smiling pleasantly, asked, '' Can I quote you on that, Detective?'' Celluci's smile was just as sincere. ''You can tattoo it on your chest.

The Italian tough guys, dey talk real deep like dis down in dere chests... while the Irish speak way high-ah, up here in their heads.

I feel my soul as vast as the world, truly a soul as deep as the deepest of rivers; my chest has the power to expand to infinity. I was made to give and they prescribe for me the humility of the cripple.

The door slammed open. Vivenna jumped, putting a hand to her chest. Vasher walked in. 'Start reaching for that sword when you're startled,' he said. 'There's little reason to grab your shirt, unless you're planning to rip it off.

Breath. A man's breath was his life. Exhaled, bit by bit, back into the world. Kaladin breathed deeply, eyes closed, and for a time that was all he could hear. His own life. In, out, to the beating of the thunder in his chest. Breath. His own little storm.

I couldn't help grinning at the sight of her. Megan, in turn, raised a nine-millimeter square at my chest. Well, that was familiar, at least.

I do not mourn the death of the printed letter in a snobby, East Coast, patrician way - 'Where have our manners gone?' - but because I love objects, I love paper, and I love something that I can hold to my chest for a moment. Still, I bear no grudge against the e-mail form itself.

A schimbat pana, cheia ce deschide sufletul poetului, pe un pistol, cheia ce deschide porÈ›ile lumii. C?ci atunci când expediem un glonte în pieptul unui om e ca È™i când am p?trunde noi înÈ™ine în pieptul acestuia; iar pieptul altuia înseamn? lumea.

Moonlight flooded through the open window, illuminating a bed, a chest at its foot, and a small table and chair. There was nothing else, and what remained was splintered and broken and empty of anything useful. Bones from another life, the skeleton of better times—it made her cry all over again.

Get your priorities straight, young man. When a victim is staring at a blade that has just plunged through his chest, the last thing on his mind is criticism about the lack of ornamentation on your hilt.

If I never had this knee injury I would've been on the field and I probably would've been feeling out of shape and that I've got to work even harder. I'd be taking shots to the chest. I could've died on the field.

A volte penso che il dottore giusto saprebbe aprirmi il petto e trovarla lì, mia sorella, incastonata dentro di me, come un viso su un medaglione

Full with frets I die, but not slain by you. My chest drains itself, painlessly. Is all this not blood? Oh, Lord—it's dew! The dawn, weeping, washes over me.

A.J. notices an Elmo doll sitting on the floor with a note attached to his matted red chest by a safety pin. He sets the baby down and picks up Elmo, a character A.J. has always despised because he seems too needy.

Children and adults with developmental trauma frequently experience chronic abdominal pain, headaches, chest pain, fainting, and seizure-like episodes—all very common symptoms related to a sensitized stress response.

He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon

But when he spoke, that great voice of his poured out of his chest in words like the snowflakes of winter, and then no other mortal could in debate contend with Odysseus. Nor did we care any longer how he looked.

The mage pulled my knife out of his side and looked at it. "Nice knife." The voice was deep but female. I threw my second knife. The blade bit into the mage's chest. Shit. Missed the neck. "Here, have another one.

He whirled in the water and grinned at me. Damn, he was a handsome bastard. I realized he was half-naked. Blue swirls of tattoos painted his chest. When God made that chest, he did to tempt women.

I've seen your foot up close." Curran pointed to his chest. "I've seen it here." He moved his hand to his jaw. "Here." He touched the place over his cheek where my kick had cut him. "And here.

Senator Douglas was very small, not over four and a half feet height, and there was a noticeable disproportion between the long trunk of his body and his short legs. His chest was broad and indicated great strength of lungs.

Then she sighed. Just the faintest, softest release of breath. The sound swept through his chest like a hurricane, with the force to topple trees.