Sentences with phrase «nothing like breathing»

Course description: There is nothing like breathing underwater for the very first time!

There is nothing like breathing underwater.

The Fun Part There is nothing like breathing underwater for the very first time.

There is nothing like breathing underwater for the very first time.

Nothing like breathing in (and exhaling for the public to re-breathe in) a slew of heavy metals from the e - cigarette chambers.

Not exact matches

Nothing like editing god's original word... I wonder if the editors were «god breathed» or whatever other silly crap they call it...

Like the players always say, «Nothing breathes like 100 % polyester!&raLike the players always say, «Nothing breathes like 100 % polyester!&ralike 100 % polyester!»

There is nothing like a breath of fresh air to breathe new life into a cranky child.

When Teddy was born, like many babies, he had a few breathing difficulties to start (nothing a rub down with a towel couldn't solve), so although he was slow to start we weren't worried and after a quick examination with the doctor our little bundle of perfection was handed to us.

There is nothing better than cuddling a newborn, breathing in her fresh scent and kissing her sweet head... unless that head is covered in flaky, dry skin, or it looks like it has a coating of oily, thick, yellowish scaly patches on it.

Nothing rattles you like being startled by a wife who says, «Go check on the baby, I don't think he's breathing» or having a five - year - old exhaling on your sleeping face like an ax - murderer before announcing, «Can I cuddle with you guys?»

Chances are, it would go something like this: a manageably short labor (which of course starts with perfectly timed contractions that are easily pegged as the real thing), little pain (or at least nothing some well - orchestrated breathing exercises couldn't handle), a few pushes, and then a beautiful baby to welcome into the world.

Be it summer, rains or winter there's nothing like wearing colourful crocs, this easy to slip on footwear is fun to wear and allows their tiny feet breathe easily.

As noted in our last summer blazer roundup, there are other lightweight options for summer — silk, seersucker, cotton pique, etc — but nothing breathes quite like linen, and there are a ton of great options for linen blazers in stores right now.

If it feels like there is nothing you can do, go for a walk, call a friend, or sit with your experience as it is and breathe deeply.

(And if «extreme sports» seems like a somewhat dated phrase, this movie does nothing to breathe new life into it.)

Granted, nothing truly substantial comes from the dialogue until the out - of - nowhere borderline tear - jerking climax, but the human personas are unique and lively, much like the performers who breathe life into them.

Besides, there's nothing like burying your face in a living, breathing, loving plush toy!

Any dog which has some Pug in it may be prone to narrowed airways due to their anatomy; also Yorkshire Terriers may also have disorders like collapsing trachea etc... These problems may only present during times of excitement, exercise or stress which would correlate to the breathing difficulties when excited; it would be best to visit your Veterinarian to have a check of Appa's respiratory tract to make sure there is nothing too or immediately serious and to determine a course of treatment if required.

When I listened to her breathing with my ear near to her belly when she's sleeping, it's like her fourth breathed was a little gasp - Ish I am planning to go to the vet again soon, but I want to know if this is nothing or this is something to look out for.

In any case where a dog is having trouble to breathe and is having abdominal breathing I would recommend you visit your Veterinarian immediately as there is nothing you can do at home; it look like this is causing discomfort for Casey and may be caused by salivary gland issues, lymph nodes, abscess or other causes.

Xbox has eaten that subsidy for 2 generations with nothing to show for it except for an online community that prides itself shouting at everybody in earshot racial slurs like they were breathing air and a negative return on investment.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

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