Quotes About Panting

But as for thee, poor soul, who art persuaded to renounce thy lusts, to throw away the conceit of thy own righteousness, that thou mayest run with more speed to Christ, and art so possessed with the excellency of Christ, thy own present need of him, and salvation by him, that thou pantest after him more than life itself, in God's name go and speed, be of good comfort; he

A sudden douche of terror then squirted itself all over Dixon. After a moment he realized that this was because he had a plan and was about to carry it out. He panted a little with the enormity of it, then drained his glass and said quaveringly: Here goes then. Good-bye for now.

August in East Tennessee is a sweaty panting mutt, breathing down a dust-caked neck that has been baked by the southern sun.

He stopped at an intersection, panting, rubbing at the twinge in his hamstrings, looking around, though he knew no cars were coming in either direction. Dropping forward at the waist Martin admitted that he was fucking himself up. Dr Leonowsky told him: hurting yourself is an articulation of self-disgust. It helps no one, prevents nothing. This wasn't a glorious loss of control, he was fooling himself, it was self-harm.

In the early morning the dogs burst from their sleeping quarters to bunch by the garden gate, panting for a race across Beacon Hill Park. Springs that wound themselves tighter and tighter in their bodies all night would loose with a whir on the opening of the garden gate. Ravenous for liberty, the dogs tore across the ball grounds at the base of Beacon Hill, slackened their speed to tag each other, wheeled back, waiting to climb the hill with me.

Baloo made one effort to hurry, but had to sit down panting

Du, Erde, warst auch diese Nacht beständig Und atmest neu erquickt zu meinen Füßert, Beginnest schon mit Lust mich zu umgeben, Du regst und rührst ein kräftiges Beschließen, Zum höchsten Dasein immerfort zu streben. This night, thou, Earth! hast also stood unshaken, And now thou breathest new-refreshed before me, And now beginnest, all thy gladness granting, A vigorous resolution to restore me, To seek that highest life for which I'm panting.

He had quickly happened upon the truth which many lonely contemporaries would never discover, the truth that everybody, simply everybody, was panting for it and could, with patience, be shown that they were panting for it. So Adrian grabbed what was to hand and had the time of his life genitally - focusing exclusively on his own gender of course, for this was 1973 and girls had not yet been invented.

Bluefur pushed herself forward, springing onto the first stone. Water splashed and gurgled around her. The blood roared in her ears. Stupid Goosefeather! She leaped to the next stone, swaying for a heart-stopping moment before she found her balance and gathered her haunches to jump again. Stupid prophecy! And again. It's probably not even true. The final stone wobbled as she landed, and water washed over her paws. Don't let me drown! She flung herself to the shore, panting.

those words of old in their place of old end of part three and last present formulation at the end before the silence the panting without pause the animal in want of air the mouth murmuring them in the mud and the continuation of old when the panting stops ten words fifteen words a murmur to the mud

'Twas but a dream, yet by my heart I knew, Which still was panting, part of it was true.

Then one of the dogs rolled onto her back and panted at me. "Oh, cute," I said. "I'll scritch your belly if you don't eat my head." I started scritching her belly. Then the other two dropped in front of me also.

A carnal worshipper is taken with the beauty and magnificence of the temple; a spiritual worshipper desires to see the glory of God in the sanctuary (Psalm lxiii. 2), he pants after God: as he came to worship, to find God, he boils up in desires for God, and is loth to go from it without God, "the living God" (Psalm xlii. 2).

Many people called them the Lions of Magrast, but Varencienne had heard her husband refer to them as wolves, and this description seemed more apt: pale wolves, with gemstone eyes, tongues lolling in the dark, panting, waiting, claws clinking along the bare passages of the palace.

Saer is a great big poop, and you shouldn't listen to anything he says," I said, panting just a little. "Obviously, he was trying to demoralize me." "Men who are poops demoralize people all the time," I agreed

My entire body shaking, I carefully unstrapped the seat belt and turned around as far as I could to look at the backseat. Or rather, the dog that sat on it. He was panting, his eyes round, but there was nothing at all odd about him. Other than the fact that I'd just heard him speak. "You can't talk," I told him. "I think I can," he answered.

Panting, my body dotted with perspiration, I scanned my surroundings. I saw walls of ivory and gold, painted in swirling patterns. An antique dresser. A furry white rug on the floor. A mahogany nightstand, with a Tiffany lamp perched next to a photo of my boyfriend, Cole.

The heat of late afternoon closed in around us like an animate thing; you could feel it on your skin, warm and moist, like a great beast panting. The air was so dense it seemed to require a huge effort even to inhale it. It lay thick in the lungs and seemed to give no refreshment.

Straight away he raced, with Dolly, panting and frothing, one leap behind; nor could she gain on him, so great was his terror, nor could he leave her, so great was her madness.

gaping open, panting. It looked like a toothy smile.

Presently Ray was panting like a little dog, and her whimpering had a pitiful note in it that made Mildred want to cry out against the injustice that one so small, so helpless, should have to bear such agony. But she sat perfectly still, not distracting by so much as a movement the attention of those on whom Ray's chance depended.

Total?" I said when he was close. "Can you talk?" He flopped down on the grass, panting slightly. "Yeah. So?" Jeezum. I mean, mutant weirdos are nothing new to me, you know? But a talking dog?

The bathroom door had a mirror on the outside of it, and I saw his face in that as he went by. It was evil, repulsive; you could tell by his face that his reason was slowly crumbling. He had his mouth open as if he was panting for air. The black beard, short as it was, made him look a little bit like an ape standing on its hind legs. He kept going back and forth, carrying clothes out of the closet.

Now piercèd is her virgin zone; She feels the foe within it. She hears a broken amorous groan, The panting lover's fainting moan, Just in the happy minute.