Last breath is rare, therefore expensive. However, we prefer to stay poor … (Dernier soupir est rare, donc cher. – Pourtant, on préfère rester pauvre…)

Kitu cha kwanza kufanyika mwanadamu anapozaliwa ni kuvuta pumzi ya kwanza katika mapafu ya mwili wake. Cha mwisho kufanyika kabla ya kufa ni kutoa pumzi ya mwisho katika mapafu ya mwili wake. Pumzi iliyoingia kwanza baada ya kuzaliwa, itakuwa ya mwisho kutoka kabla ya kufa. Pumzi ni bora kuliko muda halafu pumzi ni uhai. Bila...

Colder by the hour, more dead with every breath.

This is for you, for your breath, whose absence would lessen a greater world.

The race is long, and I am sprinting. If I ever see her again, I’ll probably be too out of breath to tell her I love her.

And she was terribly aware that she was alive. Not just living and breathing, but …alive.

Sometimes it’s the same moments that take your breath away that breathe purpose and love back into your life.

The day I arrived in Yakutsk with my colleague Peter Osnos of The Washington Post, it was 46 below. When our plane landed, the door was frozen solidly shut, and it took about half an hour for a powerful hot-air blower- standard equipment at Siberian airports- to break the icy seal. Stepping outside was like...

Today, find a point of stillness: brief, but precious slight, but full small, but luminously real. Find a point stillness in the balance of all things between the breathing out and breathing in.

He cannot think. He can scarcely breathe. But he has no desire to either, he simply wants to keep kissing her.

I was running and deliberately lost my way. The world far off and nothing but my breath and the very next step and it’s like hypnosis. The feeling of conquering my own aliveness with no task but to keep going, making every way the right away and that’s a metaphor for everything.

The city takes a breath on Sunday. Of all that’s lost with the pursuit of what’s next, I hope we don’t lose that…

Like the bud of a flower, change forces you to surrender to growth. It makes you vulnerable. It requires you to enlarge, expand and become bigger. Like the oxygen provided with each breath, we are denied its benefits until we relax and breathe in.

Life is like a lit cigarette. The past is ashes, the present is burning, and the future is up in smoke. Fast as a breath; inhale exhale.

Rather than allowing our response to an even affect our breathing, we can learn instead to let our breathing change our relationship to the event.

. . .in your light, had I learned to love, herein your beauty, could I speakknowing of this space close withinas the breath held inside a garden rose, there—there is no time.

I knelt in front of life, folded my hands and prayed for some more time; there couldn’t be any. My heart bled and so did my tearful eyes.Time, they say, flies, but I saw it slowly passing by taking each of my tardy breaths with it as it walked out of my life…

I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones of skin; I am breathing in the same air that was...

I love the rebelliousness of snail mail, and I love anything that can arrive with a postage stamp. There’s something about that person’s breath and hands on the letter.

The first kiss is the deepest.””The last breath is the hardest.

O my love, my wife!Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breathHath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

…there is something very vital happening when we breathe—without it we die—but trying to speed it up, force it, grasp it, push it away or control it tends to get in the way. As in breathing, so in life—we can learn a lot from the natural rhythm, pace, and un-fussiness of the way breath continues...

I do my job like I breathe — so if I can’t breathe I’m in trouble.

A glorious death would be in myfinal breath to take before I die, to hearone final time on my belovèd’s mouththe sound of her eternal sigh.

Concrete breathes sun’s heat.

It’s a breath you took too late.It’s a death that’s worse than fate.

Close to your breath, I have embraced the world.

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

Be thankful for a breath of fresh air to be alive and well. Allow love and happiness to penetrate throughout your mind and soul. Take time to relax and live in the moment, the now, the present. Enjoy today.

The harmonica has musical wind, and is the breath of soul. It’s like a sad, lonely I love you lost in the breeze.

Most people are completely unaware of their breath. They violate your space, they have no idea that they have halitosis.

come up for a breath of air” out of the noisy clutter of the world.But don’t be afraid, there is nothing arcane or supernatural or creepy about the notion of taking a time-out. Ball players do it. Kids do it, when prompted by their parents. Heck, even your computer does it (and sometimes not when...

Much of the time the mind is wandering, either drawn to focus, ruminate, or push away unpleasant experiences, or chasing after stuff we like. But if we don’t practise being still, we are prone to get blown about by every wind, buffeted by the ups and downs of life. By training to pay attention precisely...

Once again, we are reminded that awakening, or enlightenment is not the property of Buddhism, any more than Truth is the property of Christianity. Neither the Buddha nor the Christ belongs exclusively to the communities that were founded in their names. They belong to all people of goodwill, all who are attentive to the secret...

Like go for a walk, say a little prayerTake a deep breath of mountain airPut on my glove and play some catchIt’s time that I make time for thatWade the shore and cast a lineLook up a long lost friend of mineSit on the porch and give my girl a kissStart livin’, that’s the next...

He returned her love. He lusted after her sweet young body. He wanted her the way he wanted to breathe the spring air. He had never loved anyone before. He had not known even what this feeling for his tiny slave was. Now in the crisp, clear spring sunlight, he knew.

No matter how strange things get, know that with every breath, you are becoming that which you have always been.

The moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.

May youalways haveopenbreezy spacesin your mind.

Write what you love. Fill your pages with the beating of your own heart, the breath from your own lungs. Live through your characters. Let your characters live through you. Then you will love what you write, and others will, too.

Remember to breathe. It is after all, the secret of life.

And then we ease him out of that worn-out body with a kiss, and he’s gone like a whisper, the easiest breath.

In the end it’s not about how many breaths you took. In the end it’s about the moments that took your breath away.

The factory of love encompasses all, but on some days, does it seem to be one of suffocation, squeezing its target too tightly? And on other days not tight enough? Or maybe that is the breath of a living love knowing when to protect, when to release, and when to protect again. For we are...

Quoting Father Seraphim:Our life hangs only by a breath. It is the thread that links you to the Father, the Source, which brought you into being. Be conscious of this thread, and go where you will. (27)

The more you believe in the power of thought, and the more you listen to your breath, the greater changes you can create in your life.

I really believe that breath, in and of itself… can become the ultimate self-healing tool.

For God took a handful of blizzard snow, blew on it and created the horse.

There is one secret place…it is beautiful and peaceful, where gentle water flows, and most beautiful garden grows, yet, nobody could ever go to…You reach deep within my soul drawing out all the dreams that I hid beneath the doubt for long casting all my feelings away into the darkness and shutting all the doors....

As long as I can hear the sweet melody of your words, I need not; The angel’s secret, to be whispered in my ears As long as I can lace your silky fingers round my own, I need not; Pretty diamonds, nor big cash nor gold As long as I can watch the handsome sunshine...