Top 1096 Chest Quotes & Sayings

I think memory is the most important asset of human beings. It's a kind of fuel; it burns and it warms you. My memory is like a chest: There are so many drawers in that chest, and when I want to be a fifteen-year-old boy, I open up a certain drawer and I find the scenery I saw when I was a boy in Kobe. I can smell the air, and I can touch the ground, and I can see the green of the trees. That's why I want to write a book.

America Singer, you get back here." He ran in front of me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we stood, chest to chest. "Tell me," he whispered. I pinched my lips together. "Fine, then I shall have to rely on other means of communication." Without any warning, he kissed me.

Think chest/hips/ push, or CHP, when it's time for uphill running. Chest up, hips forward, push strongly off each foot.

You can do all them push-ups to pump up your chest, I got a 12 gauge Mossberg to pump up your chest, Have you gasping for air after that shell hit your vest. Fear me like you fear God, 'cause I bring death.

He tapped my chest. 'Happy is here.' He tapped his own chest. 'Here.' I looked down past my chin. 'Inside?' 'Inside.' It was getting crowded in there. First angel. Now happy. It seemed there was more to me than cabbage and turnips.

How do you 'accidentally' kill a noble man in his own mansion?" "With a knife in the chest. Or, rather, a pair of knives in the chest.

The heart chakra is located in the center of your chest. Hold your right or left hand out. Now say "Me" and, as you do so, touch your chest. You will automatically touch your heart chakra.

Todd? Are you still there?" "Yeah. I'm just trying to think of a good reason to continue our friendship." I grinned. "Jealousy is so unattractive Todd." "It would help if you could tell me one thing that's wrong. One flaw. Bad breath? Warts? Some condition that requires anti fungal spray?" "Would chest hair be a flaw?" "Oh, yeah." Todd sounded relieved." I can't stand a chest rug. You can't see the chest cut.

I got to have that S on my chest. Superman.

This is an exact replica of my chest.

When you look at me that way, I feel so beautiful." "You are beautiful." He signed deep in his chest. His hands slid up and down her arms, caressing her roughly. "So damned beautiful." "So are you." She put a hand to his bare chest, tracing the defined ridges of his musculature. "Like a diamond. Hard and gleaming, and cut with all these exquisite facets. Inside...pure, brilliant fire.

Oh, man, I was a stick in high school. I had a bird chest; I got called that a lot: 'Bird chest.' But I've always been comfortable with my body, even when I was super skinny.

You don't let a guy put his hand on your chest, and put his foot on the ball and look into your eyes and tell you a bedtime story. No. sorry. He controlled the ball on his chest, step on it, look, see if someone was in the stands, take a coffee, turn, call his family, no one was answering, left a message, and then thought "Oh, I might cross the ball." He crossed it and they scored.

A thousand suns rise from my chest.

Be prepared. *smacks chest*

You ever feel like you know someone so much that they can breathe for you? Like when their chest and your chest rise and fall, they do it together because they have to? That's how it felt. That's how it always felt.

Suppose you came across a woman lying on the street with an elephant sitting on her chest. You notice she is short of breath. Shortness of breath can be a symptom of heart problems. In her case, the much more likely cause is the elephant on her chest. For a long time, society put obstacles in the way of women who wanted to enter the sciences. That is the elephant. Until the playing field has veen leveled and lingering stereotypes are gone, you can't even ask the question.

Then why are you crying?” “Because of you!” I beat my fists on his chest. “Because I love you, and I don’t know what to do! I can solve almost any problem, but I can’t solve this. I don’t know how to deal with that. And I’m afraid! Afraid for you! Do you know what it’d do to me if something happens to you?” I stopped hitting him and clasped my hands over my own chest, as though there was a danger my heart might fall out. “This! This would break. Shatter. Crumble. Crumble until it was dust.” I dropped my hands. “Blown away on the wind until there was nothing left.

My chest bumps like a dryer with shoes in it.

Hair on a man's chest is thought to denote strength. The gorilla is the most powerful of bipeds and has hair on every place on his body except for his chest.

I keep having the urge to cross my hands over my chest, to cover up my breasts, to hide. I'm suddenly aware of how pale I look in the sunshine, and how many moles I have spotting up and down my chest, and I just know he's looking at me thinking i'm wrong or deformed. But the he breathes, 'Beautiful' and when his eyes meet mine I know that he really, truly means it.

I smoke till I got chest pains

Superman walks around with an 'S' on his chest. I walk around with a 'P' on my chest, and that P stands for Passion.

Jill was tall and slim, like most Moroi. With that figure came a modest chest. Angeline's chest...was not so modest.

I know it's a guy thing to chest bump, but me and my dancers chest bump before hitting the stage. Not too hard though...ouch!

It is not important to have a big chest. But you should have a heart in your chest.

My brother had a big comic book chest, and he kept the key in the exact same place. So when he would leave for camp or be gone for a few days at a friend's house, I would totally sneak into that room and open the comic book chest and see 'X-Men' and 'Sandman' and all the Neil Gaiman stuff and all the Marvel stuff and some old 'Thor' comics.

Imagine Jesus crucified in your arms and on your chest, and say a hundred times as you kiss His chest, "This is my hope, the living source of my happiness; this is the heart of my soul; nothing will ever separate me from His love.

I find 12 P.M. as the best time to work out. During training, I do two body parts a day: chest-back, back-triceps or chest-biceps so that my body doesn't get used to a pattern.

The devil lies brooding in the miser's chest.

Those deep hazel eyes held his and didn't blink. "You'd be amazed what I would do to keep you alive." Abruptly, V's mouth opened, his breath growing tight. And as the two of them stood chest-to-chest, he knew every inch of his body, felt it all at once.

If a guy is going to not throw his body at me and he looks like he's just going to sit there with his chest open, I'm going to put my helmet through his chest. That's his fault if he's sore in the morning.

Spiritual knowledge is like a house built in the midst of secular and pagan knowledge, in which there is laid up, like a solid and well-secured chest, the knowledge of the inspired Scriptures and the inestimable riches they contain. Those who enter into the house will never at all be able to see those treasures unless this chest is opened for them. But it does not belong to human wisdom (cf. I Cor. 2:13) ever to be able to open it, so that the riches of the Spirit deposited in it remain unknown to all who are worldly.

What I remove from my writing is linear context. It's not really important to me, because it doesn't give me chills to see, "you flip the latch and the lock opens and then you can open the top of the chest and inside the chest is this." That doesn't give me chills, to think in that vein. So I've always kind of avoided it.

The other day I got out the shower and I bend down to reach for a towel, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Shot through my chest and up around my shoulder and down my spine. I thought 'Oh, Lord.' I thought I was dying. I bent over and looked, and I was standing on my own titty.

I love you. You are my heart beating outside of my chest.

Um, there's a girl meeting her friend,' he went on. 'Her friend is giving her an ice-cream cone. Oh-it's dripping. Huh. It, uh, dripped on her...chest.' Iggy drew in a hissing breath. It's gonna stain for sure,' the Gasman said. 'That's chocolate.' Hmm,' Fang said, watching, the girl dab at her chest with a paper napkin.

Holding this soft, small living creature in my lap this way, though, and seeing how it slept with complete trust in me, I felt a warm rush in my chest. I put my hand on the cat's chest and felt his heart beating. The pulse was faint and fast, but his heart, like mine, was ticking off the time allotted to his small body with all the restless earnestness of my own.

You are the home I point to that lives in my chest.

It was very strange, for I knew we were both in mortal danger. Still, in that instant, I felt well. Whole. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, the blood pulsing hot and fast through my veins again. My lungs filled deep with the sweet scent that came off his skin. It was like there had never been any hole in my chest. I was perfect - not healed, but as if there had been no wound in the first place.

I didn't know what to think, but what I felt was magnetic and so big it ached like the moon had entered my chest and filled it up. The only think I could compare it to was the feeling I got one time when I walked from the peach stand and saw the sun spreading across the late afternoon, setting the top of the orchard on fire while darkness collected underneath. Silence had hovered over my head, beauty multiplying in the air, the trees so transparent I felt like I could see through to something pure inside them. My chest ached then, too, this very same way.

Well what's in your Amazonian hope chest?

Conscience, man's moral medicine chest.

Bran grabbed my hand,pulled me to a chest, and swung the heavy lid open. A white cloth covered the contents. He jerked it aside. Human heads filled the chest. "Oh God." He scooped a mummified head from the chest by a scalp lock and thrust it at me. "All of them are mine." This was officially the weirdest version of "come down to my place and I'll show you some etchings" I've ever been hit with.

The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door; The chest, contriv'd a double debt to pay,- A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.

I've been getting plenty off my chest. Sometimes I get too much off my chest and I regret it.

Acceptance, when it comes, arrives in waves: Listen with your chest. You will feel a pendulum swing within you, favoring one direction or another. And that is your answer. The answer is always inside your chest. The right choice weighs more. That's how you know. It causes you to lean in its direction.

I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest. I'd half-awaken. He'd stick his skull under my nose and purr, stinking of urine and blood. Some nights he kneaded my bare chest with his front paws, powerfully, arching his back, as if sharpening his claws, or pummeling a mother for milk. And some mornings I'd wake in daylight to find my body covered with paw prints in blood; I looked as though I'd been painted with roses.

You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you.

Ever notice Hulk Hogan ain't got no hair on his chest? The only one who's got hair on their chest on their team is Cindy Lauper.

I have the word 'Shameless' tattooed on my chest.

Take off your shirt." Jace raised his eyebrows. "I'm not going to attack you," she said impatiently. "I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning." "Are you sure?" he asked, obediently sliding the shirt off his shoulders. "Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me.

As a songwriter I hate this whole, 'If it's a sad song, it has to sound like a sad song thing.' And that goes all the way back to my days with the Format. I'm an insane narcissist, so if I have to get something off my chest, I'll get something off my chest.

My "heart". Does that pitiful organ still represent anything? It lies motionless in my chest, pumping no blood, serving no purpose, and yet my feelings still seem to originate inside its cold walls. My muted sadness, my vague longing, my rare flickers of joy. They pool in the center of my chest and seep out of there, diluted and faint, but real.

I got a pain in my chest, and I can't breathe

I don't know if I was ever called out, but I definitely have been told my chest hair gets super long. I don't like it at all, so I definitely shave my chest a bunch. I have a really nice, huge eagle on my whole chest, with the words "Strength" and "Honor" and "Sanctimony" around it, so I like to keep that clean and clear.

When I just want to be free, I'll wear the Banderas outfit and the mask and touch myself. On the chest. Only on the chest. I just want to feel the silky silks.

My heart was beating out of my chest.

I like that I've been able to maintain a good stomach and chest. Push-ups and sit-ups are my go-to. It is the simplest routine and the best thing to maintain my stomach and chest. I'll do about 100 of each a day, usually when I'm already warmed up.

I wore U.S.A. across my chest in 1976.