Top 30 Lung Quotes

Studies show that Avastin can prolong the lives of patients with late-stage breast and lung cancer by several months when the drug is combined with existing therapies.

I never get sick – not a cold, not a cough or sore throat. Everyone around me can be hacking up a lung, and I’m fine.

Lord, confound this surly sister, blight her brow with blotch and blister, cramp her larynx, lung and liver, in her guts a galling give her.

My father lost a lung in a chemical accident at General Motors, and after a while, he got a settlement that sort of changed all of our lives and moved us from, what we say, ‘ashy to classy’ in some aspects.

I could write a thesis on the physiology of vision. But I had no way to look through the fabric of confabulation spun by a man with severe lung disease who was prescribed ‘home oxygen’, but gave a false address out of embarrassment because he had no ‘home.’

An iron lung looks like an enormous metal coffin or a 19th-century rocket ship: only its occupant’s head is left outside, a tight seal around the neck.

I’ve always had to train harder than others to get the oxygen to my muscles because of my lung capacity. I have to push myself past the point of being comfortable.

People ask me how I manage without a man in the same tone they might ask someone how they’re doing with just one lung, but it’s not like that at all.

You don’t have free will when you have lung cancer.

If you just do a Google search and type in ‘smoking’ or ‘lung cancer’, you will be barraged with never ending facts and numbers, like how one in every three Americans is affected by lung disease and how COPD is the third leading cause of death and if you get lung cancer the odds are 95% that you will die.

In my state of spiritual abstraction, I no longer belong to myself and to my eyesight. I am nothing more than a single narrow gasping lung, floating over the mists and summits.

If you have lung cancer, the most important thing you can know is your genetic code.

Now I’m being blamed not only for anorexia but for lung cancer. – On being a social smoker.

In 2008, while the film version of my book ‘Choke’ was coming to market, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. That meant that I had to appear in public to promote a comedy about a son trying to save his dying mother – the plot of Choke – while privately I was caring for my own dying mother. It was torture.

The worst was practicing a stunt for John Wayne in ‘McQ.’ I lost two teeth, broke six ribs, cracked a vertebra and punctured a lung. I spent 12 days in the hospital.

I was actually in an iron lung for about a year, and then I was paralysed from the neck down for another year after that. So I spent a lotta time just lying down as a kid. And some of my earliest memories from then are of listening to the radio.

I know patients who bring a dozen roses to the doctor’s office. And, boy, the next visit, nobody forgets that. You come in and hey – ‘Here’s the lady who brought the roses’ vs. ‘Here’s the lung cancer.’

If we talk about the environment, for example, we have to talk about environmental racism – about the fact that kids in South Central Los Angeles have a third of the lung capacity of kids in Santa Monica.

People are used to dealing with risk. You are told if you smoke, you are at higher risk of lung cancer. And I think people are able to also understand, when they are told they are a carrier for a genetic disease, that is not a risk to them personally but something that they could pass on to children.

I never smoked in my life. Neither did my mother. And so many women I meet whose mothers or aunts or whoever who have gotten lung cancer were no-time smokers.

I always used to say to myself, I’m going to die of lung cancer. That’s the choice I’m making.

I had hope, however; I had been wounded seven times during the war, and once before in this same lung; and I did not believe I was going to die.

I’m passionate about making a difference in increasing the quality of life and survivorship for all affected by lung cancer, having lost my mother and grandmother to this terrible disease.

I have a huge rib cage, which is why I can hold a note out until I’m blue in the face… because I have such a big lung capacity.

In December 1988, my mother died of lung cancer. I died too. I couldn’t function.

We have so much lung capacity that we don’t even notice a problem until we are in our 40s.

I had a mild case of polio – not enough to put me in an iron lung, but enough to keep me bedridden for weeks. As I came out of it, my mom wanted to do something for me. She realized that, growing up in the city, I’d missed out on a lot of nature.

You know what I’ve always wanted to do? I’ve always wanted to put a lung in a suitcase and send it through an airport security check. In effect, the guard would be looking at an X-ray of a lung.

I’m functioning on a lung and a half, but I have proved that it’s possible to challenge yourself.

Fractal geometry is everywhere, even in lines drawn in the sand. It’s the cycle of life… You see fractals in plants, in flowers. Within the human lung are branches within branches.