What does it mean that all scripture is God-Breathed? In 2 Tim 3:16, Paul writes 


  All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking,
  correcting and training in righteousness (NIV)
  
  All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for
  reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness (ESV)


Does this mean that all scripture (the whole Bible) is from God and of equal importance, or are there some parts of the bible which we need to take more seriously than others?

For example, are Jesus' words more important than Paul's?

I'm looking for a Protestant/Evangelical point of view, but I'm interested in others too.
The phrase "God-breathed" is a translation of the etymological roots of the Greek θεόπνευστος. Most English versions of the Bible translate this Greek word as "inspired by God". ("Inspire" is derived from the Latin word inspiratio, which like πνευστος, originally denoted breath or spirit.)

There is no consensus on what it means to say that all Scripture is inspired, even among Evangelical Protestants. In an essay titled How Can The Bible Be Authoritative? Evangelical Anglican scholar N.T. Wright dispenses with the notion of the Bible as a collection of "timeless truths", in which each verse is authoritative on its own.


  A regular response to these problems is to say that the Bible is a repository of timeless truth.  There are some senses in which that is true.  But the sense in which it is normally meant is certainly not true.  The whole Bible from Genesis to Revelation is culturally conditioned.  It is all written in the language of particular times, and evokes the cultures in which it came to birth.  It seems, when we get close up to it, as though, if we grant for a moment that in some sense or other God has indeed inspired this book, he has not wanted to give us an abstract set of truths unrelated to space and time.  He has wanted to give us something rather different, which is not (in our post-enlightenment world) nearly so easy to handle as such a set of truths might seem to be.


Rather, Wright recommends reading each Bible book as a book, rather than a set of verses. Only in this way can we understand the context of what God has to say to us.


  In private reading, and in informal group meetings, we need again to experiment with new ways of reading scripture.  Anyone who has heard an entire biblical book read, or even acted (think of Alec McCown on Mark, or Paul Alexander on John; I have heard the same done with Galatians, and very impressive it was, too) will realize that such things as chapter-divisions, or almost any divisions at all, can be simply unhelpful.  We need to recapture a sense of scripture as a whole, telling and retelling stories as wholes.  Only when you read Exodus as a whole (for example) do you realize the awful irony whereby the making of the golden calf is a parody of what God wanted the people to do with their gold and jewels . . . and only by reading Mark as a whole might you realize that, when the disciples ask to sit at Jesus’ right and left hand, they are indeed asking for something they do not understand.


Wright argues that thinking of inspiration in terms of inerrancy or infallibility can lead us into traps, but that we can avoid these traps by taking the Bible seriously as a whole.


  If we really engage with the Bible in this serious way we will find, I believe, that we will be set free from (among other things) some of the small-scale evangelical paranoia which goes on about scripture. We won’t be forced into awkward corners, answering impossible questions of the ‘Have you stopped beating your wife?’ variety about whether scripture is exactly this or exactly that. Of course the Bible is inspired, and if you’re using it like this there won’t be any question in your mind that the Bible is inspired. But, you will be set free to explore ways of articulating that belief which do not fall into the old rationalist traps of 18th or 19th or 20th century. Actually using the Bible in this way is a far sounder thing than mouthing lots of words beginning with ‘in—’ but still imprisoning the Bible within evangelical tradition (which is what some of those ‘in—’ words seem almost designed to do).


But rather than giving a single answer about how God speaks to us through Scripture, Wright insists that whenever we truly engage with the Bible and seek to understand what God has to say to us, we find that God not only speaks to us but transforms our lives.


  The Bible, clearly, is also to be used in a thousand different ways within the pastoral work of the church, the caring and building up of all its members.  Again, there is much that I could say here, but little space.  Suffice it to note that the individual world-views and God-views of Christians, as much as anybody else, need to be constantly adjusted and straightened out in the light of the story which is told in scripture.  But this is not to say that there is one, or even that there are twenty-one, ‘right’ ways of this being done.  To be sure, the regular use of scripture in private and public worship is a regular medicine for many of the ills that beset us.  But there are many methods of meditation, of imaginative reading, ways of soaking oneself in a book or a text, ways of allowing the story to become one’s own story in all sorts of intimate ways, that can with profit be recommended by a pastor, or engaged in within the context of pastoral ministry itself.  Here, too, we discover the authority of the Bible at work: God’s own authority, exercised not to give true information about wholeness but to give wholeness itself, by judging and remaking the thoughts and intentions, the imaginations and rememberings, of men, women and children.