Inhaled Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
when-i-was-a-kid-i-inhaled-frequently-that-was-the-point
i-think-you-inhaled-too-much-lead-from-those-scantron-sheets-simon-holt
there-are-times-when-ive-inhaled-my-work-there-are-artworks-still-inside-me
switch-to-chaseable-inhaled-the-bad-bag-of-that-jason
i-think-i-just-inhaled-cloud-shaped-like-ghost-my-grandpa-all-i-have-to-say-is-grandma-smelled-better-jarod-kintz
she-lit-my-soul-inhaled-deeply-flicking-my-ashes-occasionally-henry-rollins
yesterday-i-inhaled-cloud-immediately-my-eyes-started-raining-jarod-kintz
she-inhaled-again-you-made-it-rain-she-said-softly-delighted-everyone-needs-respite-from-sun-kathleen-tessaro
what-are-you-she-choked-out-no-sunlight-funky-choppers-he-inhaled-raggedly-take-guess-jr-ward
so-it-came-to-me-i-saw-beyond-the-dark-reflection-myself-in-me-i-closed-my-eyes-i-flew-away-and-i-inhaled-eternal-life-morgana-lefay
i-just-inhaled-kimchi-ramen-nose-on-fire-next-chapter-may-be-obscured-by-tears-mcm
she-inhaled-worry-she-exhaled-prayer-mary-lou-quinlan-author-mary-lou-quinlan
i-went-to-little-window-inhaled-country-air-one-could-hear-breathing-night-feminine-enormous-octavio-paz
we-made-love-like-steam-meets-mist-my-memory-is-foggy-but-i-know-i-inhaled-her-essence-like-smoke-jarod-kintz
i-can-see-young-man-on-dizzily-autumn-mornings-fog-which-he-inhaled-just-like-rapidly-evaporating-freedom-imre-kertesz
my-ashtray-is-full-carton-cigarettes-is-empty-i-just-cremated-grandpa-but-i-never-inhaled-told-him-i-loved-him-jarod-kintz
i-went-to-little-window-inhaled-country-air-one-could-hear-breathing-night-feminine-enormous-the-blue-bouquet-octavio-paz
i-didnt-read-this-booki-inhaled-it-this-terrific-new-take-on-great-old-rock-n-roll-story-clash-musical-titans-william-mckeen
the-male-suffered-some-minor-first-seconddegree-burns-to-his-arms-but-most-lifethreatening-injuries-were-due-to-toxic-smoke-two-inhaled-fire-capt-emmit-kane
i-want-my-room-to-smell-just-like-this-iggy-inhaled-deeply-as-scents-flamebroiled-burgers-hot-french-fries-wafted-around-us-it-would-be-improvement-james-patterson
prayer-is-natural-joyous-breathing-spiritual-life-by-which-heavenly-atmosphere-is-inhaled-then-exhaled-in-prayer-andy-murray
music-not-being-made-up-objects-nor-referring-to-objects-is-intangible-ineffable-it-can-only-be-as-it-were-inhaled-by-spirit-rest-is-silence-jacques-barzun
he-laughed-tried-to-make-it-into-cough-inhaled-at-exactly-wrong-moment-then-really-did-cough-robin-mckinley
he-sniffed-her-the-rubbery-black-nose-inhaled-deeply-as-it-passed-back-forth-over-her-face-along-her-throat-her-ears-jeez-it-was-like-being-vacuumedonly-most-hoovers-didnt-have-p
you-should-really-be-more-careful-who-you-let-put-their-hands-on-you-a-silky-male-voice-hummed-as-hot-minty-breath-wafted-around-her-ear-danced-slowly-across-her-nose-sera-inhale
lena-was-going-down-list-johns-attributes-in-her-mind-list-i-was-hoping-wasnt-too-long-he-could-see-hear-smell-things-i-couldnt-link-inhaled-deeply-then-coughed-dude-you-really-n
i-do-feel-little-embarrassed-ashamed-that-i-was-sort-saying-oh-yes-i-used-to-do-country-music-but-i-didnt-inhale-which-is-not-true-at-all-i-inhaled-emmylou-harris
all-life-is-breath-exhaled-by-god-all-dying-is-breath-inhaled-by-god-hermann-hesse
You scared the shit out of me last night, so forgive me if I don't want to hear fine as an answer." I rubbed my eyes, hoping it would keep the burning tears away. The warm water of the shower had finally calmed the tears, but the thought of Noah walking away brought them back. "What do you want to hear? That I'm exhausted? Terrified? Confused? That all I want to do is rest my head on your chest and sleep for hours, but that's not going to happen because you're leaving me?" "Yes, " he said quickly, then just as quick said, "No. Everything but the last part." He paused. "Echo, how could you think I would leave you? How can you doubt how I feel?" "Because, " I said as I felt the familiar twisting in my stomach. "You saw me lose it. You saw me almost go insane." The muscles in his shoulders visibly tensed. "I watched you battle against the worst memory of your life and I watched you win. Make no mistake, Echo. I battled right beside you. You need to find some trust in me... in us." Noah inhaled and slowly let the air out. His stance softened and so did his voice. "If you're scared, tell me. If you need to cry and scream, then do it. And you sure as hell don't walk away from us because you think it would be better for me. Here's the reality, Echo: I want to be by your side. If you want to go to the mall stark naked so you can show the world your scars, then let me hold your hand. If you want to see your mom, then tell me that, too. I may not always understand, but damn, baby, I'll try.

Katie McGarry
you-scared-shit-out-me-last-night-forgive-me-if-i-dont-want-to-hear-fine-as-answer-i-rubbed-my-eyes-hoping-it-would-keep-burning-tears-away-the-warm-water-shower-had-finally-calm
But what might a woman say about church as she? What might a woman say about the church as body and bride? Perhaps she would speak of the way a regular body moves through the world-always changing, never perfect-capable of nurturing life, not simply through the womb, but through hands, feet, eyes, voice, and brain. Every part is sacred. Every part has a function. Perhaps she would speak of impossible expectations and all the time she's wasted trying to contort herself into the shape of those amorphous silhouettes that flit from magazines and billboards into her mind. Or of this screwed-up notion of purity as a status, as something awarded by men with tests and checklists and the power to give it and take it away. Perhaps she would speak of the surprise of seeing herself-flaws and all-in the mirror on her wedding day. Or of the reality that with new life comes swollen breasts, dry heaves, dirty diapers, snotty noses, late-night arguments, and a whole army of new dangers and fears she never even considered before because life-giving isn't nearly as glamorous as it sounds, but it's a thousand times more beautiful. Perhaps she would talk about being underestimated, about surprising people and surprising herself. Or about how there are moments when her own strength startles her, and moments when her weakness-her forgetfulness, her fear, her exhaustion-unnerve her. Maybe she would tell of the time, in the mountains with bare feet on the ground, she stood tall and wise and felt every cell in her body smile in assent as she inhaled and exhaled and in one loud second realized, I'm alive! I'm enfleshed! only to forget it the next. Or maybe she would explain how none of the categories created for her sum her up or capture her essence.

Rachel Held Evans
but-what-might-woman-say-about-church-as-she-what-might-woman-say-about-church-as-body-bride-perhaps-she-would-speak-way-regular-body-moves-through-worldalways-changing-never-per
The Major's laughter boomed out again. "And I never kept a diary in my life!" he cried. "Why there's enough cream in this situation to make a dishful of meringues. You and I, you know, the students of Tilling! The serious-minded students who do a hard day's work when all the pretty ladies have gone to bed. Often and often has old-I mean has that fine woman, Miss Mapp, told me that I work too hard at night! Recommended me to get earlier to bed, and do my work between six and eight in the morning! Six and eight in the morning! That's a queer time of day to recommend an old campaigner to be awake at! Often she's talked to you, too, I bet my hat, about sitting up late and exhausting the nervous faculties." Major Flint choked and laughed and inhaled tobacco smoke till he got purple in the face. "And you sitting up one side of the street, " he gasped, "pretending to be interested in Roman roads, and me on the other pulling a long face over my diaries, and neither of us with a Roman road or a diary to our names. Let's have an end to such unsociable arrangements, old friend; you lining your Roman roads and the bottle to lay the dust over to me one night, and I'll bring my diaries and my peg over to you the next. Never drink alone-one of my maxims in life-if you can find someone to drink with you. And there were you within a few yards of me all the time sitting by your old solitary self, and there was I sitting by my old solitary self, and we each thought the other a serious-minded old buffer, busy on his life-work. I'm blessed if I ever heard of two such pompous old frauds as you and I, Captain! What a sight of hypocrisy there is in the world, to be sure! No offence-mind: I'm as bad as you, and you're as bad as me, and we're both as bad as each other. But no more solitary confinement of an evening for Benjamin Flint, as long as you're agreeable.

E.F. Benson
the-majors-laughter-boomed-out-again-and-i-never-kept-diary-in-my-life-he-cried-why-theres-enough-cream-in-this-situation-to-make-dishful-meringues-you-i-you-know-students-tillin
All at once, something wonderful happened, although at first, it seemed perfectly ordinary. A female goldfinch suddenly hove into view. She lighted weightlessly on the head of a bankside purple thistle and began emptying the seedcase, sowing the air with down. The lighted frame of my window filled. The down rose and spread in all directions, wafting over the dam's waterfall and wavering between the tulip trunks and into the meadow. It vaulted towards the orchard in a puff; it hovered over the ripening pawpaw fruit and staggered up the steep faced terrace. It jerked, floated, rolled, veered, swayed. The thistle down faltered down toward the cottage and gusted clear to the woods; it rose and entered the shaggy arms of pecans. At last it strayed like snow, blind and sweet, into the pool of the creek upstream, and into the race of the creek over rocks down. It shuddered onto the tips of growing grasses, where it poised, light, still wracked by errant quivers. I was holding my breath. Is this where we live, I thought, in this place in this moment, with the air so light and wild? The same fixity that collapses stars and drives the mantis to devour her mate eased these creatures together before my eyes: the thick adept bill of the goldfinch, and the feathery coded down. How could anything be amiss? If I myself were lighter and frayed, I could ride these small winds, too, taking my chances, for the pleasure of being so purely played. The thistle is part of Adam's curse. 'Cursed is the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat of it; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee.' A terrible curse: But does the goldfinch eat thorny sorrow with the thistle or do I? If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom. I was weightless; my bones were taut skins blown with buoyant gas; it seemed that if I inhaled too deeply, my shoulders and head would waft off. Alleluia.

Annie Dillard
all-at-once-something-wonderful-happened-although-at-first-it-seemed-perfectly-ordinary-a-female-goldfinch-suddenly-hove-into-view-she-lighted-weightlessly-on-head-bankside-purpl
Billos ran. He tore down the shore, bounded up on the rock, and dove into the air. The warm water engulfed him. A boiling heat knocked the wind from his lungs. The shock alone might kill him. But it was pleasure that surged through his body, not pain. The sensations coursed through his bones in great unrelenting waves. Elyon. How he was certain, he did not know. But he knew. Elyon was in this lake with him. Billos opened his eyes. Gold light drifted by. He lost all sense of direction. The water pressed in on every inch of his body, as intense as any acid, but one that burned with pleasure instead of pain. He sank into the water, opened his mouth and laughed. He wanted more, much more. He wanted to suck the water in and drink it. Without thinking, he did just that. The liquid hit his lungs. Billos pulled up, panicked. He tried to hack the water from his lungs, but inhaled more instead. No pain. He carefully sucked more water and breathed it out slowly. Then again, deep and hard. Out with a soft whoosh. He was breathing the water! Billos shrieked with laughter. He swam into the lake, deeper and deeper. The power contained in this lake was far greater than anything he'd ever imagined. "I made this, Billos." Billos whipped his body around, searching for the words' source. "Elyon?" His voice was muffled, hardly a voice at all. "Do you like it?" "Yes!" Billos said. He might have spoken; he might have shouted-he didn't know. He only knew that his whole body screamed it. Billos looked around. "Elyon?" "Why do you doubt me, Billos?" In that single moment the full weight of Billos's foolishness crashed on him like a sledgehammer. "I see you, Billos." "I made you." "I love you." The words crashed over him, reaching into the deepest folds of his flesh, caressing each hidden synapse, flowing through every vein, as though he had been given a transfusion. "I choose you, Billos." Billos began to weep. The feeling was more intense than any pain he had ever felt. The current pulled at him, tugging him up through the colors. His body trembled with pleasure. He wanted to speak, to yell, to tell the whole world that he was the most fortunate person in the universe. That he was loved by Elyon. Elyon himself. "Never leave me, Billos." "Never! I will never leave you." The current pushed him through the water and then above the surface not ten meters from the shore. He stood on the sandy bottom. For a moment he had such clarity of mind that he was sure he could understand the very fabric of space if he put his mind to it. He was chosen. He was loved.

Ted Dekker
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