Quotes About Body

The body could find balance between opposing forces. The mind could do the same.

Her cup size didn't suit either her personality or profession but she was descended from a long line of short, acerbic, busty women, and so this was her lot.

She had the kind of thin bony body and hard face that speaks of addiction and the streets. There was a nearly healed cut over one eye with faint purplish bruising, and Troy tried to feel the sympathy she obviously deserved, but his heart was as hard and suspicious as an ex-girlfriend's.

She had not realized that grief was so physical. Before Zach died, she thought grief happened in your head. She didn't know that your whole body ached with it, that it screwed up your digestive system, your menstrual cycle, your sleep patterns, your skin. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy.

Detoxing is a myth, darling, it's been debunked! Your liver does it for you. Or maybe it's your kidneys. It's all taken care of somehow.

His guilt slowly seeped away. His body metabolized it, like alcohol. And she colluded in his lunacy.

She had not realized that grief was so physical.

The more jessica changed her face and body the less secure she got.

Men often used that phrase: "drop some weight." They said it without shame or emotion, as if the weight were an object they could easily put down when they chose. Women said they needed to "lose weight," with their eyes down, as if the extra weight was part of them, a terrible sin they'd committed.

There was a certain age, Cecilia had noticed, before people stooped or trembled, but where they didn't seem to trust their bodies in quite the same way as they once had.

The problem was that she wanted to convey strength in all her future interactions with this man, and her soft white body, especially when compared to Masha's Amazonian example, damn her, didn't convey anything much except fifty-two years of good living and a weakness for Lindt chocolate balls.

You don't look sweaty." "I showered," said Bonnie. "But my core body temperature is still quite high." "You'll catch a chill," said Madeline. "No I won't," said

It's perfectly clear that the millions of babies, who are crying at this very moment, want unanimously to be next to a live body. Do you really think they're all wrong? Theirs is the voice of nature. This is the clear, pure voice of nature, without intellectual interference.

Thoughts are no more than electrical surges in the brain. Sexual arousal is no more than a flow of chemicals to certain nerve endings. Sadness is no more than a bit of acid transfixed in the cerebellum. In short, the body is a machine, subject to the same laws of electricity and mechanics as an electron or clock.

Her body stay on top of my Summers like Suzanne.

New Orleans Maniac. shoot a nigga up til his whole body aint attached.

What the mind has forgotten, the body remembers long after.

I don't even have moderately big breasticles. They just look like - well, nevermind what they look like. At least they stay strapped down when I worm into a sports bra.

I pulled in a soft breath. My lungs were starving, crying out for air. I lay still, and a cough tickled at the back of my throat. It always happens when you're hiding, a cough, a sneeze, something. It's stupid. The body decides to screw around with you, even though it knows being quiet is the only way it's going to go on living.

Halfway across the river I hoist myself on the wide parapet, swing my legs over the edge, and look down in the water for Quentin's body. How does a man in Mississippi in the 1920s create a character who feels more alive to a waitress in 1997, remembered with more tenderness, than most of the boys she's ever known? How do you create a character like that?

I forget to mention the heavy menstrual bleeding and the pain.

The gynecologist has ordered a mammogram. He said my breasts were difficult to examine manually because they were fibrous. It makes me feel like a cereal.

The human doesn't need long mathematical equations to hit a home run in baseball. The human body already understands the math involved and can do it with just some practice. Isn't that wonderful?

Sometimes I lay my body down on a marble slab . . . and become poetry.