Breaths Quotes - Page 13

• I suddenly leaned forward,bringing my face close to hers.catching her breath,stifling that laugh and pink tongue,she watched me wide-eyed.I removed the wallet from my back pocket and sat down casually again. "What happened?" I asked idly. "I thought...never mind".She blinked. Ha,gotcha

  Chetan Bhagat

  Laughing, Mind, Pockets

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• I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite - only a sense of existence. Well, anything for variety. I am ready to try this for the next ten thousand years, and exhaust it. How sweet to think of! my extremities well charred, and my intellectual part too, so that there is no danger of worm or rot for a long while. My breath is sweet to me. O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Thanksgiving, Running, Sweet

  Henry David Thoreau (2012). “The Portable Thoreau”, p.373, Penguin

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• I developed a deep, abiding fear of jeans, which I still have. I hold my breath and shut my eyes when I pull on a pair in the dressing room, afraid they will now, as then, get stuck at my hips and there I will stand, absurd, staring at the excess of hips that should, if I were a good person, be „slim“.

  Marya Hornbacher

  Eye, Jeans, Excess

  Marya Hornbacher (2014). “Wasted Updated Edition: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia”, p.25, Harper Collins

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• Because you need me," he said, drawing in his breath as she squirmed against him. "Just as I need you." He crushed his mouth to hers. "I've needed you for years." Another kiss, this one deep and drugging, his tongue searching her intimately

  Lisa Kleypas

  Kissing, Years, Drawing

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• The guitar's still around me. I slip it off and put it down. I want to feel him. To feel his breath on my neck. The warmth of his skin. To feel something other than sadness. Hold me, I tell him silently. Hold me here. To this place. This life. Make me want you. Want this. Want something. Please

  Jennifer Donnelly

  Sadness, Guitar, Want Something

  Jennifer Donnelly (2015). “Revolution”, p.34, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.

  William Shakespeare

  Errors, Mirrors, Should

  William Shakespeare, Suzanne Gossett (2004). “Pericles: Third Series”, p.182, Cengage Learning EMEA

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• Beckendorf, whose legs were now working fine (nothing like being chased by a huge monster to get your body back in order) shook his head and gasped for breath. “You shouldn’t have turned it on! It’s unstable! After a few years, automatons go wild!

  Rick Riordan

  Running, Order, Years

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• Are there bears in these mountains?" he asked. His companion nodded. "Of course. But it's a bit early in the year for them to be moving around. Why?" Halt let go a long breath. "Just a vague hope, really. There's a chance that when the Temujai here you crashing around in the trees, they might think you're a bear." Erak smiled, with his mouth only. His eyes were as cold as the snow. "You're a very amusing fellow," he told Halt. "I'd like to brain you with my ax one of these days." "If you could manage to do it quietly, I'd almost welcome it," Halt said.

  John Flanagan

  Letting Go, Moving, Eye

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• You had this young man with you for... what, six years?" Halt shrugged. "Near enough," he replied. "And did you ever understand a word he was saying?" "Not a lot of the time, no," Halt said. Crowley shook his head in wonder. "It's just as well he didn't go into the Diplomatic Service. We'd be at war with half a dozen countries by now if he was on the loose." Will drew a deep breath to begin talking. He noticed that both men took an involuntary half step backward and he decided he'd better try to keep it as simple as possible.

  John Flanagan

  Country, War, Simple

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• First,” he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, “choose your tomato.” He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “Good. Now pick up the knife.” “Does the chef always stand this close?” I asked, not sure if I liked or feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me. “When he’s revealing culinary secrets, yes.

  Becca Fitzpatrick

  Hands, Knives, Secret

  Becca Fitzpatrick (2013). “The Complete Hush, Hush Saga: includes Hush, Hush; Crescendo; Silence and Finale”, p.90, Simon and Schuster

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• I believe you have my umbrella" he says, almost out of breath but wearing a grin that has too much wolf in it to be properly sheepish.

  Erin Morgenstern

  Believe, Too Much, Umbrella

  Erin Morgenstern (2016). “The Night Circus”, p.165, Random House

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• Sunrise What is the name of the deep breath I would take over and over for all of us? Call it whatever you want, it is happiness, it is another one of the ways to enter fire.

  Mary Oliver

  Fire, Names, Sunrise

  Mary Oliver (2014). “Dream Work”, p.43, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

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• He's looking at me as if the whole world waits for my next breath, with an intensity that makes my heart pound and my palms sweat and then he smiles, a sweet curve of his mouth, and my breath catches, but then I freeze because there is something about it, something beyond it that I know, that makes my mind go blank with fear and pain.

  Elizabeth Scott

  Sweet, Pain, Heart

  Elizabeth Scott (2011). “As I Wake”, p.42, Penguin

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• I reach out and grab her wrist. It feels impossibly tiny in my hand, like this one time I found a baby bird near goose Point, and I picked it up and it died there, taking its final gasping fluttering breaths in my palm.

  Lauren Oliver

  Baby, Hands, Bird

  Lauren Oliver (2010). “Before I Fall”, p.203, Hachette UK

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• I took a deep breath. "Are you free tonight?" There was a long, pregnant pause. "What about the man in the dream?" he finally asked. "There is no man in the dream.

  Richelle Mead

  Dream, Men, Long

  Richelle Mead (2012). “Succubus Dreams”, p.318, Kensington Publishing Corp.

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• I held my breath as we do sometimes to stop time when something wonderful has touched us.

  Mary Oliver

  Sometimes, Wonderful, Stop Time

  Mary Oliver (2004). “Why I Wake Early: New Poems”, p.34, Beacon Press

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• Whatever truth we feel compelled to withhold, no matter how unthinkable it is to imagine ourselves telling it, not to is a way of spiritually holding our breath. You can only do it for so long.

  Mark Nepo

  Long, Matter, Way

  Mark Nepo (2000). “The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have”, p.410, Conari Press

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• A breath of steam trickles out, filled with the sobs of a grown woman breaking into girl-sized pieces.

  Laurie Halse Anderson

  Girl, Pieces, Steam

  Laurie Halse Anderson (2009). “Wintergirls”, p.116, Penguin

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• Sometimes you build up these walls, you build and you build and you build up these walls and you think they’re so strong, but then someone can come along and tip them over with only his fingers, or the weight of his breath.

  Deb Caletti

  Strong, Wall, Thinking

  Deb Caletti (2011). “Wild Roses”, p.161, Simon and Schuster

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• You should have seen your face," she said, her breath hot in my ear. "Sa-woooon.

  Sarah Dessen

  Should Have, Hot, Ears

  Sarah Dessen (2006). “The Truth About Forever”, p.102, Penguin

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• and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

  Andrea Gibson

  Keys, Soldier, Different

  Andrea Gibson (2018). “Take Me With You”, p.158, Penguin

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• Thank you for your honesty," Niles says. The Candor repeat the phrase under their breath. All around me are the words "Thank you for your honesty" at different volumes and pitches, and my anger begins to dissolve.

  Veronica Roth

  Honesty, Different, Phrases

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• One Time, One Day between Davie and Roberta , I asked my mom why she persisted, kept on having baby after baby, She looked at me, at a spot between my eyes, blinking like I had suddenly fallen crazy. She paused before answering as if to confide would legitimize my fears. She drew a deep breath, leaned against the chair. I touched her hand and I thought she might cry. Instead she put baby Davie in my arms Pattyn, she said, it's a woman's role. I decided if it was my role, I'd rather disappear.

  Ellen Hopkins

  Mom, Baby, Crazy

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• It’s me,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I could understand if you didn’t believe me, but I swear on the Angel, Iz, it’s me.” Alec said nothing, but his grip on Jace’s hand tightened. “You don’t need to swear,” he said, and with his free hand touched the parabatai rune near his collarbone. “I know. I can feel it. I don’t feel like I’m missing a part of me anymore.” “I felt it too.” Jace took a ragged breath. “Something missing. I felt it, even with Sebastian, but I didn’t know what it was I was missing. But it was you. My parabatai.

  Cassandra Clare

  Believe, Angel, Hands

  Cassandra Clare (2012). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls”, p.2251, Simon and Schuster

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• They began to tune up, and suddenly the auditorium was filled with a single sound - the most alive, three-dimensional thing I had ever heard. It made the hairs on my skin stand up, my breath catch in my throat....I felt the music like a physical thing; it didn't just sit in my ears, it flowed through me, around me, made my senses vibrate. It made my skin prickle and my palms dampen...It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

  Jojo Moyes

  Beautiful, Hair, Skins

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