Patients breathe. If you've got a lung tumor, the patient's going to move, so the tumor is going to move. You have to have an intelligent robot capable of moving along with the target. So this robotic system really expands radiosurgery for use throughout the body.
system body moving robot intelligent breathe
I kind of saw his legs spread a little, and I knew he was going to shoot it. He wasn't going to (fake) it. I figured he would go top left. Making that save was big, because it let our defense breathe a little bit.
kind fake defense big left save breathe legs
It was very difficult to skate the program because I'm still not healthy. After the third minute I couldn't breathe. I was gulping for air, like a fish out of water.
healthy water fish air difficult breathe
But this is the final preparation before the Olympic Games. After the third minute, I couldn't breathe. I was gulping for air, like a fish out of water.
games preparation water fish air olympic breathe
I was on intravenous fluids for three days, and thanks to the doctor who got me back on my feet. There was a doubt whether I could come. It was a bit hard to skate, to breathe. I'm still coughing badly.
doubt days hard doctor breathe
One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.
man breath day find kiss breathe
We live and breathe words... It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt--I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted--and then I realized that truly I just wanted you.
reading dreams writing live thought world power-of-words dreaming feeling words feel letters honest thinking brave lonely love-at-first-sight colors sounds afraid made books breathe
To hurt is as human as to breathe.
human hurt breathe
If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.
culture writing write cry sing breathe
As the sun rules the day and the moon governs the night, so too, we are connected by: the air that we breathe, light that we see and the darkness that follows. Life is too short to waste it on disagreements. Surely, we can all agree to disagree. So let us find a common ground, form a union and spread joy, happiness and freedom around the world for the benefit of you, me and the future generations to come.
rules life action happiness light future world joy darkness night day moon sun suspense find thriller air waste common generations form freedom benefit breathe short
Yet all experience is an arch wherethroughGleams that untraveled world whose margin fadesForever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!As though to breathe were life!
travel life adventure experience world shine end ulysses forever breathe dull
Any great art work revives and readapts time and space, and the measure of its success is the extent to which it makes you an inhabitant of that world - the extent to which it invites you in and lets you breathe its strange, special air.
work time success art creativity inspirational world transcendence aesthetics epiphany space special measure air strange great breathe
What keeps earth air breathable? Not oxygen alone. The earth is a freer place to breathe in, every time you love without calculating a return -- every time you make your drudgeries and routines still more inefficient by stopping to experience the shock of beauty wherever it unpredictably flickers.
work time beauty art experience earth shock conservatism air place profit return love freedom breathe
We need our Arts to teach us how to breathe
art creativity arts teach breathe
I realise people exist who don't read. But it's like I knew there were people who didn't breathe or eat: I can't imagine a life like that.
life people imagine twitter exist eat read books breathe
I nearly always write just as I nearly always breathe.
writing write books breathe
Anyhow, I had found something out about an unknown privation, and I realized how a general love or craving, before it is explicit or before it sees its object, manifests itself as boredom or some other kind of suffering. And what did I think of myself in relation to the great occasions, the more sizable being of these books? Why, I?saw?them, first of all. So suppose I wasn't created to read a great declaration, or to boss a palatinate, or send off a message to Avignon, and so on, I could see, so there nevertheless was a share for me in all that had happened. How much of a share? Why, I knew there were things that would never, because they could never, come of my reading. But this knowledge was not so different from the remote but ever-present death that sits in the corner of the loving bedroom; though it doesn't budge from the corner, you wouldn't stop your loving. Then neither would I stop my reading. I sat and read. I had no eye, ear, or interest for anything else--that is, for usual, second-order, oatmeal, mere-phenomenal, snarled-shoelace-carfare-laundry-ticket plainness, unspecified dismalness, unknown captivities; the life of despair-harness or the life of organization-habits which is meant to supplant accidents with calm abiding. Well, now, who can really expect the daily facts to go, toil or prisons to go, oatmeal and laundry tickets and the rest, and insist that all moments be raised to the greatest importance, demand that everyone breathe the pointy, star-furnished air at its highest difficulty, abolish all brick, vaultlike rooms, all dreariness, and live like prophets or gods? Why, everybody knows this triumphant life can only be periodic. So there's a schism about it, some saying only this triumphant life is real and others that only the daily facts are. For me there was no debate, and I made speed into the former.
reading life speed death rest live real inspirational unknown education suffering kind loving knowledge moments debate prophets gods share boredom eye facts air stop things found importance interest read calm difficulty message great made accidents demand love books breathe boss prisons
We live and breathe words.
reading live living words books breathe
Sometimes when I think how good my book can be, I can hardly breathe.
good book books breathe
When Great Trees FallWhen great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker downin tall grasses, and even elephantslumber after safety. When great trees fallin forests, small things recoil into silence, their senseseroded beyond fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomeslight, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see witha hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind wordsunsaid, promised walksnever taken. Great souls die andour reality, bound tothem, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon theirnurture, now shrink, wizened. Our minds, formedand informed by theirradiance, fall away. We are not so much maddenedas reduced to the unutterable ignoranceof dark, coldcaves. And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and alwaysirregularly. Spaces fillwith a kind ofsoothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, neverto be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and bebetter. For they existed.
poetry silence life writing peace death soul memory reality fear kind poem writers dark poems fall trees clarity senses poet poets small eyes air leave safety things die bound minds souls great lions breathe forests whisper
Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives, When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives, Sweet as a song that once consoled our pain, But never will be sung to us again, Is they remembrance. Now the hour of restHath come to thee. Sleep, darling: it is best.
poetry sleep pain death song sweet remembrance lives flowers fragrance breathe
The boy was lying, fast asleep, on a rude bed upon the floor; so pale with anxiety, and sadness, and the closeness of his prison, that he looked like death; not death as it shews in shroud and coffin, but in the guise it wears when life has just departed; when a young and gentle spirit has, but an instant, fled to Heaven: and the gross air of the world has not had time to breathe upon the changing dust it hallowed.
prison life solitude death time world sadness heaven spirit lying changing anxiety air young asleep boy dust bed breathe gross
Flowers, cold from the dew, And autumn's approaching breath,I pluck for the warm, luxuriant braids, Which haven't faded yet. In their nights, fragrantly resinous, Entwined with delightful mystery, They will breathe in her springlikeExtraordinary beauty. But in a whirlwind of sound and fire, From her shing head they will flutterAnd fall?and before herThey will die, faintly fragrant still. And, impelled by faithful longing, My obedient gaze will feast upon them?With a reverent hand, Love will gather their rotting remains.
mystery sound death beauty breath fire autumn fall flowers longing die hand head cold dying love breathe feast transience
Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die, die.
magic death song black cry mary die cool breathe knife
Become the leader of your life. Lead yourself to where you want to be. Breathe life back into your ambitions, your desires, your goals, your relationships.
life success inspirational relationships motivational desires ambitions leader goals breathe
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