Quotes About Body

It's hard being in the body of someone you don't like, because you still have to respect it.

The brief transcript of moments, written on the body, is so deeply satisfying to read.

Eventually, we all must go to sleep. This is our first intimation that the body always wins. No matter how hapywe are, no matter ow much we want our night to stretch out infinitely, sleep is inevitable. You might be able to dodge it for one giddy cycle, but the body's need will always return.

I think he'll be all sweaty because, let's face it most fat people get sweaty just from lifting the twinkie to their mouth, but tiny is just to fabulous to sweat.

It is a hard cycle to conquer. The body is working against you. And because of this, you feel even more despair. Which only amplifies the imbalance. It takes uncommon strength to live with these things.

People take love's continuity for granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted.

I have been in the bodies of starvers and purgers, gluttons and addicts. They all think their actions make their lives more desirable. But the body always defeats them in the end.

Breathe, we want to tell Avery. Feel yourself breathe. Because that is as much a part of your body as anything else. Avery, we whisper, you are a marvel. And he is. He may never believe it, but he is.

Some people think mental illness is a matter of mood, a matter of personality. They think depression is simply a form of being sad, that OCD is a form of being uptight. They think the soul is sick, not the body. It is, they believe, something that you have some choice over. I know how wrong this is.

Some people think mental illness is a matter of mood, a matter of personality. They think depression is simply a form of being sad, that OCD is a form of being uptight. They think the soul is sick, not the body. It is, they believe, something that you have some choice over. I know how wrong that is.

People take love's continuity for granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted.

How much of my body is really me? My face is me, for sure. Anyone who looked at my face would know it was me.Even with my hair wet and drawn back it's me. But after that? If I showed myself a picture of myself from the shoulders down, would I be sure it was me? Could I identify myself that way? I close my eyes and ask myself what my feet look like. I only kind of know. Same with my hands. I have no idea what my back looks like. I let it define me, but I can't even define it.

I wake up the next morning in Beyoncé's body. Not the real Beyoncé. But a body remarkably like hers. All the curves in all the right places.

My identity walks the wires for me, all around the world. The body is now the afterthought. The birthplace, not the home.

It is a hard cycle to conquer. The body is working against you. And because of this, you feel even more despair. Which only amplifies the imbalance. It takes uncommon strength to live with these things. But I have seen that strength over and over again. When I fall into the life of someone grappling, I have to mirror their strength, and sometimes surpass it, because I am less prepared.

Incluso cuando la mente descarta la historia de amor, hay ocasiones que el cuerpo tarda en captar el mensaje.

For our afternoon, I've decided to attempt to give Rhiannon the satisfaction of being fully alone. Not the lethargy of lying on the couch or the dull monotony of drifting off in math class. Not the midnight wandering in a sleeping house or the pain of being left in a room after the door has been slammed shut. This alone is not a variation of any of those. This alone is its own being. Feeling the body, but not using it to sidetrack the mind. Moving with purpose, but not in a rush.

I have always thought of the body as something that is written from the inside. I don't need Rhiannon's name on my skin, because it is already indelible in my thoughts.

The conclusion I reach: I don't like my body very much, but I'm not sure I'd like anyone else's body any better. They're all strange when you look at them for too long.

How much of my body is really me? My face is me, for sure. Anyone who looked at my face would know it was me. (...) But after that? If I showed myself a picture of myself from the shoulders down, would I be sure it was me? (...) I close my eyes and ask myself what my feet look like. I only kind of know. (...) I let it define me, but I can't even define it.

Some people think that mental illness is a matter of mood, a matter of personality. They think depression is simply a form of being sad, that OCD is a form of being uptight. They think the soul is sick, not the body. It is, they believe, something you have choice over.

I run. I am made for running. Because when you run, you could be anyone. You hone yourself into a body, nothing more or less than a body. You respond as a body, to the body. If you are racing to win, you have no thoughts but the body's thoughts, no goals but the body's goals. You obliterate yourself in the name of speed. You negate yourself in order to make it past the finish line.

from the moment I see her, I know that she's another disappearing girl, that she's desperately trying to disappear. The signs of it tattoo her body - the wear and tear. It is hard for unhealthy people to masquerade as healthy ones, especially once they've stopped caring if other people notice -Rhiannon

There comes a time when the body's urges, the body's needs, dictate the life.