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Breathe Quotes

“Mythologically speaking, if there's anything I hate worse than trios of old ladies, it's bulls. Last summer, I fought the Minotaur on top of Half-Blood Hill. This time what I saw up there was even worse: two bulls. And not just regular bulls - bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire, too.”

IfsTwoEnoughLastsHateHalfFireSawsBloodSummerI HateSizeBreatheHillsElephantsBullsOld LadyBronzeTriosLast SummerMinotaur
Book:Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters
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“No," he said calmly, filled with purpose. he took her arms lightly in his hands and shook her. "I am not giving you up." Emily looked at him, and for just a moment he could read her thoughts. Melanie use to say they were like twins, with their own secret, silent language. in that instant, Chris felt her fear and her resignation, and the knotty pain of coming up against a brick wall again and again. She glanced away, and he could breathe again. "The thing is, Chris" Emily said, "it's not your choice.”

GivingSaidMomentsUseHandsPainPurposeChoicesLanguageFeltSecretWallArmsFilledSilentBreatheInstantAgain And AgainTwinsBricksResignationEmilyBrick Wall
Author:Jodi Picoult
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“. . . your history is no less important to your survival than your ability to breathe. In the end, you can only determine whether to saturate your memories with pain or with perspective. Forgetting is not an option. I tell you the truth now: Pain was not God's plan for this life. It is a reality, but it is not a part of the plan.”

ImportantEndsRealityPainMemoriesAbilityForgetPlansPerspectiveSurvivalDetermineBreatheThis LifeGod's Plan
Book:Dekker 4-in-1 Bundle: Black, Showdown, Heaven's Wager & Kiss
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“The earth for us is a place to live in, where we must put up with sights, with sounds, with smells, too, by Jove! - breathe dead hippo, so as to speak, and not be contaminated. And there, don't you see? your strength comes in, the faith in your ability for the digging of unostentatious holes to bury the stuff in - your power of devotion, not to yourself, but to an obscure, back-breaking business.”

EarthSpeakStuffSoundAbilitySightSmellBreatheHolesDevotionObscureDiggingPlaces To LiveHippo
Book:Heart of Darkness
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“O, but they say, the tongues of dying men enforce attention, like deep harmony: where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain: for they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain. he, that no more must say, is listened more than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze; more are men's ends marked, than their lives before: the setting sun, and music at the close, as the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; writ in rememberance more than things long past”

MenLongEndsPainLastsPastAttentionSunDyingYouthTaughtSweetTasteHarmonyTongueBreatheSettingSettingsVainEaseSweetestScarce
Book:King Richard II: Third Series
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“The Lesson You've Got to learn is the someday you'll someday stagger to, blinking in cold light, all tears shed, ready to poke your bovine head in the yoke they've shaped. Everyone learns this. Born, everyone breathes, pays tax, plants dead and hurts galore. There's grief enough for each. My mother learned by moving man to man, outlived them all. The parched earth's bare (once she leaves it) of any who watched the instants I trod it. Other than myself, of course. I've made a study of bearing and forbearance. Everyone does, it turns out, and note those faces passing by: Not one's a god.”

MenDoeMadeEnoughLightEarthFacesMovingMotherTurnsCoursesBornHurtGriefPayStudyTearsReadyColdLessonsTaxesPlantNotesBreathePassingPassingsInstantSomedayShedYokePokeForbearancePassing ByBovine
Author:Mary Karr
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“Was he a good kisser, Ms. Lane?” Barrons asked, watching me carefully. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand at the memory. “It was like being owned.” Some women like that.” Not me.” Perhaps it depends on the man doing the owning.” I doubt it. I couldn’t breathe with him kissing me.” One day you may kiss a man you can’t breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence.” Right, and one day my prince might come.” I doubt he’ll be a prince, Ms. Lane. Men rarely are.”

MenMayLittlesHandsMightMemoriesDoubtDependsOne DayKissingMouthsConsequenceBreathsBreatheLanesGood Kisser
Author:Karen Marie Moning
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“I love the night passionately. I love it as I love my country, or my mistress, with an instinctive, deep, and unshakeable love. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness. Skylarks sing in the sunshine, the blue sky, the warm air, in the fresh morning light. The owl flies by night, a dark shadow passing through the darkness; he hoots his sinister, quivering hoot, as though he delights in the intoxicating black immensity of space.”

CountryWholeBodyLightNightBlackDarkSpaceSilenceMorningDarknessAirSkyShadowEarsBlueDelightWarmBreatheSensesPassingPassingsSunshineMistressBlacknessSinisterOwlBlue SkyPassing ThroughImmensityHootMorning LightSkylarks
Author:Guy de Maupassant
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“She had learned, in her life, that time lived inside you. You are time, you breathe time. When she'd been young, she'd had an insatiable hunger for more of it, though she hadn't understood why. Now she held inside her a cacophony of times and lately it drowned out the world. The apple tree was still nice to lie near. They peony, for its scent, also fine. When she walked through the woods (infrequently now) she picked her way along the path, making way for the boy inside to run along before her. It could be hard to choose the time outside over the time within.”

WorldWayStillsHardRunningYoungLyingBoysPathNiceTreeFineUnderstoodHungerWoodsBreatheApplesScentInsatiableApple TreesCacophonyWhy NowPeoniesInsatiable Hunger
Author:David Wroblewski
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“It's as if Japanese men, all to aware that deep inside they'd like to stomp Tokyo flat, breathe fire, and do truly terrible and disgusting things to women, have built themselves the most beautiful of prisons for their rampaging ids. Instead of indulging their fantasies, they focus on food, or landscaping, or the perfect cup of tea -- or a single slab of o-toro tuna -- letting themselves go only at baseball games and office parties.”

IfsMenBeautifulGamesPerfectPartyFantasyFireFocusTerribleOfficeBuiltBaseballPrisonBreatheCupsTeaFlatsDisgustingDeep InsideCups Of TeaBaseball GamesTokyoTunaSlabsLandscaping
Author:Anthony Bourdain
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“I think," Tehanu said in her soft, strange voice, "that when I die, I can breathe back the breath that made me live. I can give back to the world all that I didn't do. All that I might have been and couldn't be. All the choices I didn't make. All the things I lost and spent and wasted. I can give them back to the world. To the lives that haven't been lived yet. That will be my gift back to the world that gave me the life I did live, the love I loved, the breath I breathed.”

ThinkingWorldGivingHas BeensMadeSaidI CanMightDiesChoicesLostVoiceLossHavensStrangeBreathsBreatheMight Have BeenGiving Back
Author:Ursula K. Le Guin
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“But the truth, he knows, is otherwise. His pleasure in living has been snuffed out. Like a leaf on a stream, like a puffball on a breeze, he has begun to float towards his end. He sees it quite clearly, and it fills him with (the word will not go away) despair. The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat.”

KnowsHas BeensEndsMomentsBodyCareLife IsPleasureBloodDespairLeavingBreatheCeaseStreamsRelaxGasGoing AwayThroatSteelLeafsBreezeLimbsFloatsNourishment
Author:J. M. Coetzee
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“I breathe deeply, taking in the fresh spring air. Though Beaufort has changed and I have changed, the air itself has not. It’s still the air of my childhood, the air of my seventeenth year, and when I finally exhale, I’m fifty-seven once more. But this is okay. I smile slightly, looking towards the sky, knowing there’s one thing I haven’t told you: I now believe, by the way, that miracles can happen.”

WayYearsBelieveStillsHappensKnowingOne ThingAirSkyChildhoodHavensChangedSpringOkayMiracleSevenBreatheFiftyI SmileI Have ChangedMiracles Can Happen
Author:Nicholas Sparks
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“Perfectionism means that you try desperately not to leave so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground - you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it's going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing needs to breathe and move.”

ThinkingNeedsWritingTryingMeanStillsShowsMovingLife IsBreathsCleanBreatheTreasureMessAnimationEditsPerfectionismClutterFertileSuspendedFertile Ground
Author:Anne Lamott
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“The boy was lying, fast asleep, on a rude bed upon the floor; so pale with anxiety, and sadness, and the closeness of his prison, that he looked like death; not death as it shews in shroud and coffin, but in the guise it wears when life has just departed; when a young and gentle spirit has, but an instant, fled to Heaven: and the gross air of the world has not had time to breathe upon the changing dust it hallowed.”

WorldYoungSpiritLyingHeavenBoysAirSadnessBedAnxietyPrisonBreatheDustGentleInstantPaleRudeGrossClosenessCoffinsGuiseDepartedShroudsGentle Spirit
Book:Oliver Twist: Classic English Literature
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“Being In Love Means hard questions. Will I? Won't I? Should I? Could I? Yes? No? You? Me? There is no me without you. Is there a you without me? And if were truly one. how will I breathe when circomstance pries us apart? You are my oxygen. my substance, the blood inside my veins. When we touch, you are my skin. hold all my joy inside of you. When you go, I wither.”

IfsShouldMeanHardJoyBloodSkinsBreatheSubstanceShould IVeinsOxygenBeing In LoveWithout YouLove MeansHard Questions
Author:Ellen Hopkins
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“What's prayer? It's shooting shafts into the dark. What mark they strike, if any, who's to say? It's reaching for a hand you cannot touch. The silence is so fathomless that prayers like plummets vanish into the sea. You beg. You whimper. You load God down with empty praise. You tell him sins that he already knows full well. You seek to change his changeless will. Yet Godric prays the way he breathes, for else his heart would wither in his breast. Prayer is the wind that fills his sail. Else drift with witless tides. And sometimes, by God's grace, a prayer is heard.”

IfsKnowsWayWellsHeartSometimesHandsDarkPrayerSinSilenceGraceHeardSeaWindPrayingEmptyMarkPraiseBreatheStrikesShootingReachingBreastsTidesLoadSailSilence IsGod's Grace
Author:Frederick Buechner
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“So we'll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart still be as loving, And the moon still be as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul outwears the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a-roving By the light of the moon.”

HeartMadeStillsSoulLightNightReturnMoonLateAnd LoveBreatheBreastsPausesRoving
Book:Delphi Complete Works of Lord Byron (Illustrated)
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“Now look at me! Take a good look! I was born and I knew I was alive and I knew what I wanted. What do you think is alive in me? Why do you think I'm alive? Because I have a stomach and eat and digest the food? Because I breathe and work and produce more food to digest? Or because I know what I want, and that something which knows how to want—isn't that life itself? And who—in this damned universe—who can tell me why I should live for anything but for that which I want?”

ThinkingKnowsWantLifeShouldLooksPhilosophyWantedUniverseBornWorkKnow HowKnowingAliveProducePhilosopherBreatheStomachLook At MeLooking GoodDeep ThoughtObjectivismI'm Alive
Book:For the New Intellectual: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand (50th Anniversary Edition)
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