Quotes About Breath

What I'm trying to do is to tell young people that I teach them how to breathe before I teach the haiku. That one breath, that one breath, because the haiku keeps you alive. It keeps you going. If you learn how to breath the haiku, you learn how to breathe. If you learn how to breathe, you're much healthier.

Every emotion is connected with the breath. If you change the breath, change the rhythm, you can change the emotion.

I've been thinking about something for a long time, and I keep noticing that most human speech-if not all human speech-is made with the outgoing breath. This is the strange thing about presence and absence. When we breath in, our bodies are filled with nutrients and nourishment. Our blood is filled with oxygen, our skin gets flush; our bones get harder-they get compacted. Our muscles get toned and we feel very present when we're breathing in. The problem is, that when we're breathing in, we can't speak. So presence and silence have something to do with each other.

Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat. My shoulder is against yours. you will not find me in the stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms, nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals: not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding around your own neck, nor in eating nothing but vegetables. When you really look for me, you will see me instantly - you will find me in the tiniest house of time. Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God? He is the breath inside the breath.

If you are a meditator, as your meditation goes on becoming more and more luminous, your intelligence will be growing to the last breath of your life. Not only that, even after the last breath your intelligence will continue to grow - because you are not going to die, only your body will be dying. And the body has nothing to do with intelligence, mind has nothing to do with intelligence. Intelligence is the quality of your awareness - more aware, more intelligent. And if you are totally aware, you are as intelligent as this whole existence is.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago

Walk, but make walking a meditation; walk knowingly Breathe, but let your breathing become a constant meditation; breathe knowingly. The breath going in: watch it. The breath going out: watch it. Eat, but eat with full awareness. Take a bite, chew it, but go on watching. Let the watcher be there in every moment, whatsoever you are doing.

Jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body's breath, and the strings' wails and moans are echoes of the body's music. It is the body's vibrations which ripple from the fingers. And the mystery of the withheld theme, known to jazz musicians alone, is like the mystery of our secret life. We give to others only peripheral improvisations.

He would have told her - he would have said, it matters not if you are here or there, for I see you before me every moment. I see you in the light of the water, in the swaying of the young trees in the spring wind. I see you in the shadows of the great oaks, I hear your voice in the cry of the owl at night. You are the blood in my veins, and the beating of my heart. You are my first waking thought, and my last sigh before sleeping. You are - you are bone of my bone, and breath of my breath.

To-day is thine to spend, but not to-morrow; Counting on morrows breedeth bankrupt sorrow: O squander not this breath that Heaven hath lent thee; Make not too sure another breath to borrow.

Our breath plays a very important role in our life. The breath is the connecting link between the inner world of the mind and the outer world of the body and environment.

Well I mean I think everybody was devastated because my last day on set was my death scene and so it was just sad altogether because my character was taking her last breath and I was kind of taking my last breath of air on set with everybody so it's definitely very sad.

Next time a sunrise steals your breath or a meadow of flowers leave you speechless, remain that way. Say nothing, and listen as Heaven whispers, "Do you like it? I did it just for you."

Debt is to man what the serpent is to the bird; its eye fascinates, its breath poisons, its coil crushes sinew and bone, its jaw is the pitiless grave.

She was stretched on her back beneath the pear tree soaking in the alto chant of the visiting bees, the gold of the sun and the panting breath of the breeze when the inaudible voice of it all came to her. She saw a dust-bearing bee sink into the sanctum of a bloom; the thousand sister-calyxes arch to meet the love embrace and the ecstatic shiver of the tree from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom and frothing with delight.

Bless you, daugher of man," Carter said, his eyes luminous and almost silver now. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and caught my breath. His lips were both burning hot and icy cold.

There is a point when tears don't work to wash things away anymore. Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers.

I do believe in high, high intensity. I don't believe that there's anytime while I'm on the floor that I should be sitting down catching my breath; that doesn't make sense. There's plenty of time to rest when I'm done.

I hope that you choose ultimately to follow your heart, and learn that whatever your plans, your goals, your dreams, life will take you in directions you haven't even dreamed of. Be open to the path not chosen, the door unopened, welcome your fear, and the choices that allow you that fear....Through all the changes, through all the disappointments, the unexpected turns, the victories, and the pain, the losses that you will experience, there will always be a constant, along with your breath, there will always be one thing that you will know, that you have the ability to choose your heart.

And so you have a life that you are living only now, now and now and now, gone before you can speak of it, and you must be thankful for living day by day, moment by moment a life in the breath and pulse and living light of the present

Never lie, steal, cheat, or drink. But if you must lie, lie in the arms of the one you love. If you must steal, steal away from bad company. If you must cheat, cheat death. And if you must drink, drink in the moments that take your breath away.

If she’s out here and not locked up in the barracks, I’ll know,” he said. He took a deep breath and whistled. “You share a whistle?” Trevanion said in disbelief. “Do you have a problem with that?” Finnikin asked. “I have a few whistles,” Lucian murmured. “Very confusing sometimes.” “Whistles are meant for combat,” Trevanion said. “Not wooing women. Women do not understand whistles.

Singing is a kind of sport and a singer a kind of athlete and following this model becoming "vocally fit" - building vocal muscles - should be the point of any form of voice teaching. Other approaches don't work directly on building vocal muscles but instead focus on so-called diaphragm support and breathing, mask singing, breath control, throat relaxation - all of which are useless at best and harmful at worst.

The body is solid material wrapped around the breath

I also think pronunciation of a foreign tongue could be better taught than by demanding from the pupil those internal acrobatic feats that are generally impossible and always useless. This is the sort of instruction one receives : “Press your tonsils against the underside of your larynx. Then with the convex part of the septum curved upwards so as almost — but not quite — to touch the uvula, try with the tip of your tongue to reach your thyroid. Take a deep breath, and compress your glottis. Now without opening your lips say "Garoo".' And when you have done it they are not satisfied.

To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever-or else swoon in death.

Tell me you love me," I pleaded" "Gideon's eyes met mine. "You know I do" "Imagine if I i ever said the words to you. If you never heard them from me" "His chest expanded on a deep breath. "Crossfire

Prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the pulse and the drawing of the breath are to the life of the body.

Along with rising and falling water, winter is the province of wind. When the sea-breath and mountain-roar bend the hemlocks of these hills, the birds hang on as best they can.

Reviving Spring, a toast to thy fresh lips! Thy blush is music, and e'en heaven lurks In thy thick perfumed hair that hangs about Thy flowered shoulders like enchanted rain; Thy sigh is song and thy soft breath a balm, Dispelling death -- soft loosing his cold grip, Unravelling darkness in the heart of pain, As o'er dank waters rings the laugh of dawn.

Happiness had never been like this before. Now it came like sun showers, the sun and the rain together. Happiness was happier than it had been - sharp, piercing, and snatched, like a breath while swimming in surf.

I will have nought to do with a man who can blow hot and cold with the same breath.

I know that I shall die struggling for breath, and I know that I shall be horribly afraid. I know that I shall not be able to keep myself from regretting bitterly the life that has brought me to such a pass; but I disown that regret. I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.

He thought back on his family with deep emotion and love. His conviction that he would have to disappear was, if possible, even firmer than his sister's. He remained in this state of empty and peaceful reflection until the tower clock struck three in the morning. He still saw that outside the window everything was beginning to grow light. Then, without his consent, his head sank down to the floor, and from his nostrils streamed his last weak breath.

Life was a small negative space cut out of the eternal solidity, and for the first time, it felt precious - not like all of the words that had come to mean nothing, but like the last breath of a drowning victim.

There's way too much wonder and mystery all around us to not stay open to more that's going on here. You can wake up, and sense and feel and taste and hear a whole world right here within this one, right here in this breath you're about to take.

Okay, take a deep breath, I told myself. Don't go all hormonal. Get the facts straight. Have a mental doughnut.

As a breath on glass, - As witch-fires that burn, The gods and monsters pass, Are dust, and return. (“The Face of the Skies”)

Calmness is the living breath of God's immortality in you.

It's been a difficult thing because some great opportunities have come and I've just been holding my breath and praying... I'm basically gambling hoping something will come along this season and if not, I don't know what the future holds.

Our breath is connected to the air that every being breathes. By breathing consciously, we acknowledge our communion with all of life.

For a long time now I haven't existed. I'm utterly calm. No one distinguishes me from who I am. I just felt myself breath as if I'd done something new, or done it late. I'm beginning to be conscious of being conscious. Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up to myself and resume the course of my existence. I don't know if that will make more happy or less. I don't know anything.

With every breath, the possibility of a new aspect of self arises.

I leaned forward and kissed him. His eyes widened, then his lips parted and he kissed me back, mouth warm and firm against mine and that floating feeling washed over me and through me, and it was so amazing that when it ended, I just stayed there, my face so close to his I could feel his breath, see those incredible amber eyes, and that was all I could see, all I wanted to see.

After the demands of the ego and its greed surrendered, the struggle for fulfillment of personal desires lessens; life takes on a new zest like a breath of fresh air.

If your boundary training consists only of words, you are wasting your breath. But if you 'do' boundaries with your kids, they internalize the experiences, remember them, digest them, and make them part of how they see reality.

To the last moment of his breath, On hope the wretch relies; And even the pang preceding death Bids expectation rise.

[Henry Miller] was such a scribomaniac that even when he lived in the same house as Lawrence Durrell they often exchanged letters. For most of his life, Henry wrote literally dozens of letters a day to people he could have easily engaged in conversation - and did. The writing process, in short, was essential. As it is to all real writers, writing was life and breath to him. He put out words as a tree puts out leaves.