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  • #1
    Julia Gregson
    “She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when you're swimming and you want to put your feet down on something solid, but the water's deeper than you think and there's nothing there”
    Julia Gregson, East of the Sun

  • #2
    Anatole Broyard
    “Two people making love, she once said, are like one drowned person resuscitating the other.”
    Anatole Broyard, Kafka Was the Rage: A Greenwich Village Memoir

  • #3
    Frederick Weisel
    “There’s an old adage: the sensation of drowning reminds you of everything you ever knew about swimming.”
    Frederick Weisel, Teller

  • #4
    “Sometimes, a child will go under
    while their parent is watching,
    and they don’t even know
    anything is wrong.
    My mom asks if everything’s okay,
    and I say of course.
    Drowning is a quiet,
    desperate thing.”
    Brenna Twohy, Forgive Me My Salt

  • #5
    Rebekah Crane
    “It's not the current that will drown you. It's the exhaustion from fighting it.”
    Rebekah Crane, The Upside of Falling Down

  • #6
    Avijeet Das
    “Some eyes are as deep as the sea! And you only feel like drowning in them.”
    Avijeet Das

  • #7
    Ilsa J. Bick
    “People drown, quietly, before our eyes, all the time.”
    Ilsa J. Bick

  • #8
    Malak El Halabi
    “You don't need an ocean to feel like you're drowning. You feel it, between your chest and your throat, the weight of it stretching you outside your self, like a dead fish on the shore.”
    Malak El Halabi

  • #9
    Suzie Wilde
    “She hoped it killed her. She tried to stay under and drown but a panic reflex forced her upwards”
    Suzie Wilde, The Book of Bera

  • #10
    Katherine Catmull
    “You don't drown because you can't breathe. You drown because you try to breathe what is not breathable.”
    Katherine Catmull, The Radiant Road

  • #11
    “I'm drowning and you're stealing every breath.”
    Cher Lloyd

  • #12
    Hélène Cixous
    “It is because of this sea between us. The earth has never, up to now, separated us. But, ever since yesterday, there has been something in this nonetheless real, perfectly Atlantic, salty, slightly rough sea that has cast a spell on me. And every time I think about Promethea, I see her crossing this great expanse by boat and soon, alas, a storm comes up, my memory clouds over, in a flash there are shipwrecks, I cannot even cry out, my mouth is full of saltwater sobs. I am flooded with vague, deceptive recollections, I am drowning in my imagination in tears borrowed from the most familiar tragedies, I wish I had never read certain books whose poison is working in me. Has this Friday, perhaps, thrown a spell on me? But spells only work if you catch them. I have caught the Tragic illness. If only Promethea would make me some tea I know I would find some relief. But that is exactly what is impossible. And so, today, I am sinning.
    I am sinking beneath reality. I am weighted down with literature. That is my fate. Yet I had the presence of mind to start this parenthesis, the only healthy moment in these damp, feverish hours.
    All this to try to come back to the surface of our book...
    Phone me quickly, Promethea, get me out of this parenthesis fast!)”
    Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea

  • #13
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “Breathing dreams like air”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

  • #14
    “I breathe in the soft, saturated exhalations of cedar trees and salmonberry bushes, fireweed and wood fern, marsh hawks and meadow voles, marten and harbor seal and blacktail deer. I breathe in the same particles of air that made songs in the throats of hermit thrushes and gave voices to humpback whales, the same particles of air that lifted the wings of bald eagles and buzzed in the flight of hummingbirds, the same particles of air that rushed over the sea in storms, whirled in high mountain snows, whistled across the poles, and whispered through lush equatorial gardens…air that has passed continually through life on earth. I breathe it in, pass it on, share it in equal measure with billions of other living things, endlessly, infinitely.”
    Richard Nelson, Island Within

  • #15
    Mary Oliver
    “oxygen

    Everything needs it: bone, muscles, and even,
    while it calls the earth its home, the soul.
    So the merciful, noisy machine

    stands in our house working away in its
    lung-like voice. I hear it as I kneel
    before the fire, stirring with a

    stick of iron, letting the logs
    lie more loosely. You, in the upstairs room,
    are in your usual position, leaning on your

    right shoulder which aches
    all day. You are breathing
    patiently; it is a

    beautiful sound. It is
    your life, which is so close
    to my own that I would not know

    where to drop the knife of
    separation. And what does this have to do
    with love, except

    everything? Now the fire rises
    and offers a dozen, singing, deep-red
    roses of flame. Then it settles

    to quietude, or maybe gratitude, as it feeds
    as we all do, as we must, upon the invisible gift:
    our purest, sweet necessity: the air.”
    Mary Oliver, Thirst

  • #16
    Elizabeth Wein
    “That is a terrifically intimate thing, you know? Letting a stranger light your cigarette. Leaning forward so he can hold a flame to your lips. Pausing to breathe in before you pull back again.”
    Elizabeth Wein, The Pearl Thief

  • #17
    David Levithan
    “Breathing, n
    You had asthma as a child, had to carry around an inhaler. But when you grew older, it went away. You could run for miles and it was fine.
    Sometimes I worry that this is happening to me in reverse. The older I get, the more I lose my ability to breathe.”
    David Levithan, The Lover's Dictionary

  • #18
    Munia Khan
    “Give me one more night to taste the dark
    When wolves imitate a lone dog's bark
    Let those secrets remain unspoken
    Fallen angel's heart now lover's token
    Light grows dim burying riddle’s death
    Just breathe to free your one last breath”
    Munia Khan

  • #19
    “Even lungs that are gasping are lungs that are trying.”
    Taylor Patton

  • #20
    “3 A.M. isn't a time for sleep when the silhouette of you is breathing next to me.”
    Taylor Patton

  • #21
    Michael Bassey Johnson
    “The only way to survive after death is by breathing life into the universe before death.”
    Michael Bassey Johnson, The Book of Maxims, Poems and Anecdotes

  • #22
    Maggie Nelson
    “To take a breath of water: does the thought panic or excite you?”
    Maggie Nelson, Bluets

  • #23
    Isabelle Joshua
    “I feel a strong hand caress my inner elbow and his lips at my ear. “You look good dancing.”
    I turn and Alex and I share the same breathing space. It’s hard to keep my eyes away from his mouth. “Really? I didn’t realize you saw me.”
    He narrows his eyes briefly. “I see you.”
    Isabelle Joshua, The Swallow

  • #24
    Anthony Liccione
    “He asked me for a light to light his cigarette, and by reason of unaware, it is he that really gave light to me, made me realize how much alike we all are, breathing the same air, beating the same red blood, separated through some fortune and shame in the way of humanity.”
    Anthony Liccione

  • #25
    Sanober  Khan
    “I wish to stay drenched
    forever
    in those rain-blue eyes
    in those...soul-reaching crystals

    not moving a muscle
    nor breathing
    just
    savoring
    this turquoise ache
    against my heart.”
    Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence

  • #26
    Arielle Hudson
    “Grabbing her close to him, he spun her around and pushed her against the wall. They needed something solid to keep them steady, because he didn’t see himself giving up those lips any time soon. He would kiss her until she lost her breath and it was only his lips on hers that kept her upright. Only the kiss that kept her breathing.”
    Arielle Hudson, The Cherry On Top

  • #27
    Charlotte Eriksson
    “... and it was quite a sad thing,
    the way I watched you sleep like nothing could go wrong and I did not want to harm it, I did not want to blur it, but how could I not
    when everything I’ve ever known has slowly gone away
    and I know by now that that’s the way you let the new day in
    with new roads and views and chances to grow
    but it was quite a sad thing
    because I don’t want this to ever become ’then’ or ’was’
    and it was quite an unfamiliar thing. The way I took off my shoes again, put down my bag and quietly went back to bed, slowly between the sheets of moments I don’t want to leave
    and it was quite a beautiful thing the way you had no idea but still must have known because you did not even open your eyes, but turned around and took my hand and you were still asleep, breathing in and out like nothing could go wrong, but still held my hand like you were glad I didn’t leave. ’Thank you for staying’
    and it was quite a wonderful thing, the way I smiled and so did you, sound asleep, and that’s all I need to know for now.
    That’s all I want to know for now.”
    Charlotte Eriksson

  • #28
    Rachel Van Dyken
    “Every damn breath hurt like hell, but I kept Breathing too. I told myself it would be a privilege to breathe through pain like that for the rest of my life - just knowing each breath was a gift.”
    Rachel Van Dyken

  • #29
    Gabriel Brunsdon
    “It is often thought that spirits in the after-world do not breathe as we might do - and that in being dead, one does not require inhaling and exhaling anything.

    Well, they do exchange ethers, and the body of a soul does in fact breathe, and talk and sing - though not with oxygen, but a rarefied vitality. And just as a newborn, the very first impulse that comes when one crosses over to the other side, past the veils of death, is to inhale deeply - and then relax.”
    Gabriel Brunsdon, Azlander: Second Nature

  • #30
    Thalia Chaltas
    “If I could just open my mouth wide enough
    to allow those gagging blobs of truth
    their slow, tar-seep passage
    up through my gullet,
    with barely enough oxygen to keep from
    passing out
    while they glorp over my tongue,
    those truths would reach my teeth,
    where if my jaw weren't unhinged,
    I might bite them off
    so I could
    breathe again.”
    Thalia Chaltas, Because I Am Furniture



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