Andrea Gibson Quotes - Page 2

For Halloween I'm gonna be emotionally stable. No one's gonna know it's me.

Everyone’s chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.

Forests may be gorgeous but there is nothing more alive than a tree that learns how to grow in a cemetery.

Our insanity is not that we see people who aren’t there. It’s that we ignore the ones who are.

I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that new born river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.

It's your worst sin saving your f***ing life; It's the devil's knife carving holes into your soul so angels have a way to make their way inside; Life doesn't rhyme. Still, life is poetry, not math. The whole world's a stage, but the stage is a meditation mat. You tilt your head back; you breathe. when your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain.

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
 on a day you’re feeling good. 
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
 on a day you’re feeling bad.
 I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
 could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

What I know about living is the pain is never just ours Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo So I keep a listening to the moment the grief becomes a window When I can see what I couldn’t see before, through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind and when it did, it scattered a thousand seeds. So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better

Know you belong here. You belong here and everything you feel is okay.

In your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters. I forget how to hold myself together. So if I unfold now like a love letter tell me you'll write back soon. Tell me you'll still come untethered.

I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.

Every lover is a storm chaser. Every good heart has lost its roof.

and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

You keep worrying you’re taking up too much space. I wish you’d let yourself be the milky way.

I have never met a heavy heart that wasn’t a phone booth with a red cape inside Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside Some days I know my smile looks like the gutter of a falling house But my hands are always holding tight to the ripchord of believing

You have a heart of gold and I am kneeling in your bloodstream panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.

But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine.

Do you think anger is a sincere emotion or the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

You can stand on the cliff of my heart and shout nothing but ‘ugly’ through me. I promise all I will echo back is ‘Beauty, beauty, you have always been beauty

Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.

We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.

Let me also say I wanna make you sandwhiches, And soup, And peanut butter cookies, Though, the truth is peanutbutter is actually really bad for you 'cause they grow peanuts in old cotton fields to clean the toxins out of the soil, But hey, you like peanutbutter and I like you!

..when a war ends, what does that look like exactly? do the cells in the body stop detonating themselves? does the orphanage stop screaming for its mother? when the sand in the desert has been melted down to glass and our reflection is not something we can stand to look at does the white flag make for a perfect blindfold? yesterday i was told a story about this little girl in Iraq, six-years-old, who cannot fall asleep because when she does she dreams of nothing but the day she watched her dog eat her neighbor's corpse. if you told her war is over do you think she can sleep?

My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.