When we bring our mind into our body, the body becomes mindful, and the mind becomes embodied
Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do. Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do.
When I was 22, I had this horrible psoriasis outbreak. It was all over my legs, I couldn't walk because my legs were cracked and bleeding. Weird things like that can happen to your body.
I won a lot, crashed a lot, and broke just about every bone in my body, but I gave it everything I had
I come from a family of tall, curvy women. I developed in my body and my shape far earlier, so from a young age I accepted it. I embraced it and saw it as an advantage.
Here I am and there is my body dancing on glass.
When I break into the clearing, she's on the ground, hopelessly entangled in a net. She just has the time to reach her hand through the mesh and say my name before the spear enters her body.
Jesus teaches us another way: Go out. Go out and share your testimony, go out and interact with your brothers, go out and share, go out and ask. Become the Word in body as well as spirit.
I'm not a big guy and hopefully kids could look at me and see that I'm not muscular and not physically imposing, that I'm just a regular guy. So if somebody with a regular body can get into the record books, kids can look at that. That would make me happy.
The way to write is to throw your body at the mark when your arrows are spent.
Remember this: your body is your slave; it works for you.
A good and wholesome thing is a little harmless fun in this world; it tones a body up and keeps him human and prevents him from souring.
A lot of people would say 'sexy' is about the body. But to me, 'sexy' is a woman with confidence. I admire women who have very little fear.
I consist of body and soul - in the worlds of a child. And why shouldn't we speak like children? But the enlightened, the knowledgealbe would say: I am body through and through, nothing more; and the soul is just a word for something on the body.
In my case, the body of work stands for itself. . . I think my work has been representative of me as a man.
I'm just trying to keep my mind and my body active. The tough part about it is that physically I'm sort of limited.
American poets celebrate their bodies, very specifically, as Whitman did.
The size of your body is just right. The only question is whether you're big enough inside.
The physical was never the best part of the body.
My thoughts are messy, my emotions are messy, my body goes in and out at will. The raised white scars on my arms and legs are the only aspect of my being that comes close to minimalism. They came from chaos, but it is hard to carve frustration and unease into the flesh. Only straight lines.