Dyspnea Icd Quotes & Sayings

Life has no limits. We are limited by our expectations. — Debasish Mridha

He pulled himself up short. He believed in a door. He must find that door. The door was the way to . . . to . . . The Door was The Way. Good. Capital letters were always the best way of dealing with things you didn't have a good answer to. Brusquely — Douglas Adams

Don't answer the door without a shirt! Now, go get dressed before you catch a cold," I scolded.
"Why? He was kinda cute. Do you think he would've went for it if I said I didn't have any money?" Wesley asked.
"You're mine and I wouldn't let you prostitute yourself for pizza. Now go put on a shirt," I said, pulling two slices onto a plate. — J.M. Colail

Angel? Angels didn't sit on the lap of wicked scoundrels-not unless they were the fallen kind. — Sabrina Jeffries

There are so many ways to do research - even watching old Ealing comedies, watching people getting on and off buses in London, looking at household interiors. — Sara Sheridan

This principle is taught in Scripture: "We love because he first loved us" (1 John 4:19). In other words, we learn to be loving because we are loved. Grace must come from the outside for us to be able to develop it inside. The opposite side of this truth is that we can't love when we aren't loved. And, taking the thinking further, we can't value or treasure our souls when they haven't been valued or treasured. — Henry Cloud

I was 11 years old when I saw the first season of 'The Real World.' Initially, I was drawn to the show because it was what I imagined the adult version of my life should be. — Andrea Seigel

I often wonder, in a catfight, when one doesn't want to fight, if the other cat calls it a pussy. — Anthony Liccione

I'm making fun of myself and I think I'm making fun of all men in our desperate, desperate attempt to understand the people we're with and hopefully through humor have them understand us. — Robert Mankoff

His hands fist in my hair as he pulls my face up to his, and his mouth is on mine, a passionate desperation in his kiss. I don't know why this takes me by surprise, but it does. I taste his relief, his longing, and his residual anger while his tongue possesses my mouth. He stops, gazing down at me, resting his weight against me so I can't move. He leaves me breathless, clinging to him for support, staring up into that beautiful face etched with determination and without any trace of humor. — E.L. James