#breathing

I contend that Bush would be a lot more moderate if there weren't some fundamentalists breathing down his neck every time he wants to establish the state of Israel, every time he wants to do justice for the Palestinian people. ↗

— Tony Campolo

#bush #contend #down #establish #every

Smiling is very important. If we are not able to smile, then the world will not have peace. It is not by going out for a demonstration against nuclear missiles that we can bring about peace. It is with our capacity of smiling, breathing, and being peace that we can make peace. ↗

— Nhat Hanh

#about #against #being #breathing #bring

They are very healthy. Yes, they were sucking and breathing on their own and everything when they came out. So there was no need to stay in the hospital. So we took them home the next day. ↗

— Cheryl Tiegs

#came #day #everything #healthy #home

Politics can be relatively fair in the breathing spaces of history; at its critical turning points there is no other rule possible than the old one, that the end justifies the means. ↗

— Arthur Koestler

#critical #end #fair #history #justifies

We can contemplate the meaning of your life all you want, but know that you're my meaning... the reason behind just about everything I do―and I would never want to change that. ~ Evan ↗

— Rebecca Donovan

#rebecca-donovan #the-breathing-series #change

That kiss you gave me was the hottest kiss i've ever had. I pulled away because i was afraid i wouldn't be able to stop myself from ripping off your clothes. And that didn't seem like the right way to end a first date. I didn't want you to think that was all i was interested in." She stared at him. There was silence again, but this time she didn't worry about how long it went on. "Why didn't you tell me?" She said finally. "I tried to, but every time i saw you afterward you disappeared. I got the feeling you were avoiding me." "i didn't want things to be awkward." "Yeah, there was nothing awkward about you hiding behind a plant when i came into the dining hall at lunch on wednesday." "I wasn't hiding. I was, um, breathing. You know, oxygen. From the plant. Very oxygenated, that air is." "Of course. I should have thought of that." "It's a healthy thing. Not many people know about it. ↗

— Michele Jaffe

#dating #funny #dating

I saw to the south a man walking. He was breaking ground in perfect silence. He wore a harness and pulled a plow. His feet trod his figure's blue shadow, and the plow cut a long blue shadow in the field. He turned back as if to check the furrow, or as if he heard a call. Again I saw another man on the plain to the north. This man walked slowly with a spade, and turned the green ground under. Then before me in the near distance I saw the earth itself walking, the earth walking dark and aerated as it always does in every season, peeling the light back: The earth was plowing the men under, and the space, and the plow. No one sees us go under. No one sees generations churn, or civilizations. The green fields grow up forgetting. Ours is a planet sown in beings. Our generations overlap like shingles. We don't fall in rows like hay, but we fall. Once we get here, we spend forever on the globe, most of it tucked under. While we breathe, we open time like a path in the grass. We open time as a boat's stem slits the crest of the present. ↗

— Annie Dillard

#death #generations #mortality #time #death

The savage rushing of the river seemed to be inside her head, inside her body. Even when the oarswomen, their guides, were speaking to her, she had the impression she couldn't quite hear them because of the roar. Not of the river that did indeed roar, just behind them, close to the simple shelter they'd made for her, but because of an internal roar as of the sound of a massive accumulation of words, spoken all at once, but collected over a lifetime, now trying to leave her body. As they rose to her lips, and in response to the question: Do you want to go home? she leaned over a patch of yellow grass near her elbow and threw up. All the words from decades of her life filled her throat. Words she had said or had imagined saying or had swallowed before saying to her father, dead these many years. All the words to her mother. To her husbands. Children. Lovers. The words shouted back at the television set, spreading its virus of mental confusion. Once begun, the retching went on and on. She would stop, gasping for breath, rest a minute, and be off again. Draining her body of precious fluid... Soon, exhausted, she was done. No, she had said weakly, I don't want to go home. I'll be all right now. ↗

— Alice Walker

#river #words #home

The prisoners for better security against conversation shall have a canvas bag put over the head of each and tied around the neck, with a holes for proper breathing and eating, but not seeing. ↗

— Edwin M. Stanton

#around #bag #better #breathing #canvas

In playing the part of Mammy, I tried to make her a living, breathing character, the way she appeared to me in the book. ↗

— Hattie McDaniel

#book #breathing #character #her #i