Andrea > Andrea's Quotes

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  • #1
    Nicholas Sparks
    “Truth only means something when it's hard to admit.”
    Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

  • #2
    Nicholas Sparks
    “Mom says it's because she has PMS.
    Do you even know what that means?
    "I'm not a little kid anymore. It means pissed-at- men syndrome”
    Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

  • #3
    Nicholas Sparks
    “Sometimes you have to be apart from people you love, but that doesn't make you love them any less. Sometimes you love them more.”
    Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

  • #4
    Nicholas Sparks
    “He stared at her, knowing with certainty that he was falling in love. He pulled her close and kissed her beneath a blanket of stars, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find her.”
    Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

  • #5
    Nicholas Sparks
    “He liked her; it was as simple as that.”
    Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

  • #6
    Nicholas Sparks
    “God, he suddenly understood, was love in its purest form, and in these last months with his children, he had felt His touch as surely as he had heard the music spilling from Ronnie's hands.”
    Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

  • #7
    Milan Kundera
    “Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #8
    Milan Kundera
    “Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman).”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #9
    Milan Kundera
    “He suddenly recalled from Plato's Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God split then in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #10
    Milan Kundera
    “In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #11
    Milan Kundera
    “for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #12
    Milan Kundera
    “loves are like empires: when the idea they are founded on crumbles, they, too, fade away.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #13
    Milan Kundera
    “But isn't it true that an author can write only about himself?”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #14
    Robert Louis Stevenson
    “Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.”
    Robert Louis Stevenson

  • #15
    We accept the love we think we deserve.
    “We accept the love we think we deserve.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #16
    Maggie Stiefvater
    “I was suddenly struck by how dissimilar we were. It occurred to me that if Grace and I were objects, she would be an elaborate digital clock, synced up with the World Clock in London with technical perfection, and I’d be a snow globe – shaken memories in a glass ball.”
    Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver

  • #17
    Brian  Andreas
    “I sometimes wake in the early morning & listen to the soft breathing of my child & I think to myself, this is one thing I will never regret & I carry that quiet with me all day long.”
    Brian Andreas

  • #18
    Brian  Andreas
    “Are you a princess? I said & she said I'm much more than a princess, but you don't have a name for it yet here on earth. ”
    Brian Andreas

  • #19
    Brian  Andreas
    “Anyone can slay a dragon ...but try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again. That's what takes a real hero.”
    Brian Andreas

  • #20
    Brian  Andreas
    “She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful & life was so short.”
    Brian Andreas

  • #21
    Brian  Andreas
    “I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.”
    Brian Andreas, Story People

  • #22
    Brian  Andreas
    “Wanting him to come back before anyone notices part of the world has not moved since he left.”
    Brian Andreas

  • #23
    Jeffrey Eugenides
    “Basically what we have here is a dreamer. Somebody out of touch with reality. When she jumped, she probably thought she'd fly”
    Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides

  • #24
    “You do not have to be good.
    You do not have to walk on your knees
    for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
    You only have to let the soft animal of your body
    love what it loves.
    Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
    Meanwhile the world goes on.
    Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
    are moving across the landscapes,
    over the prairies and the deep trees,
    the mountains and the rivers.
    Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
    are heading home again.
    Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
    the world offers itself to your imagination,
    calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
    over and over announcing your place
    in the family of things.”
    Mary Oliver

  • #25
    Laurie Halse Anderson
    “Gym should be illegal. It's humiliating.”
    Laurie Halse Anderson, Speak

  • #26
    Andrea Gibson
    “I WANT YOU TO TELL ME ABOUT EVERY PERSON YOU’VE EVER BEEN IN LOVE WITH. TELL ME WHY YOU LOVED THEM, THEN TELL ME WHY THEY LOVED YOU. TELL ME ABOUT A DAY IN YOUR LIFE YOU DIDN’T THINK YOU’D LIVE THROUGH. TELL ME WHAT THE WORD “HOME” MEANS TO YOU AND TELL ME IN A WAY THAT I’LL KNOW YOUR MOTHER’S NAME JUST BY THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE YOUR BED ROOM WHEN YOU WERE 8. SEE, I WANNA KNOW THE FIRST TIME YOU FELT THE WEIGHT OF HATE AND IF THAT DAY STILL TREMBLES BENEATH YOUR BONES. DO YOU PREFER TO PLAY IN PUDDLES OF RAIN OR BOUNCE IN THE BELLIES OF SNOW? AND IF YOU WERE TO BUILD A SNOWMAN, WOULD YOU RIP TWO BRANCHES FROM A TREE TO BUILD YOUR SNOWMAN ARMS? OR WOULD YOU LEAVE THE SNOWMAN ARMLESS FOR THE SAKE OF BEING HARMLESS TO THE TREE? AND IF YOU WOULD, WOULD YOU NOTICE HOW THAT TREE WEEPS FOR YOU BECAUSE YOUR SNOWMAN HAS NO ARMS TO HUG YOU EVERY TIME YOU KISS HIM ON THE CHEEK? DO YOU KISS YOUR FRIENDS ON THE CHEEK? DO YOU SLEEP BESIDE THEM WHEN THEY’RE SAD, EVEN IF IT MAKES YOUR LOVER MAD? DO YOU THINK THAT ANGER IS A SINCERE EMOTION OR JUST THE TIMID MOTION OF A FRAGILE HEART TRYING TO BEAT AWAY ITS PAIN? SEE, I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF YOUR FIRST NAME. AND IF YOU OFTEN LIE AWAKE AT NIGHT AND IMAGINE YOUR MOTHER’S JOY WHEN SHE SPOKE IT FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. I WANT YOU TELL ME ALL THE WAYS YOU’VE BEEN UNKIND. TELL ME ALL THE WAYS YOU’VE BEEN CRUEL. SEE, I WANNA KNOW MORE THAN WHAT YOU DO FOR A LIVING. I WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH OF YOUR LIFE YOU SPEND JUST GIVING. AND IF YOU LOVE YOURSELF ENOUGH TO ALSO RECEIVE SOMETIMES. I WANNA KNOW IF YOU BLEED SOMETIMES THROUGH OTHER PEOPLE’S WOUNDS.”
    Andrea Gibson

  • #27
    Andrea Gibson
    “Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like
    they're falling in love with the ground.”
    Andrea Gibson

  • #28
    Andrea Gibson
    “For Jenn

    At 12 years old I started bleeding with the moon
    and beating up boys who dreamed of becoming astronauts.
    I fought with my knuckles white as stars,
    and left bruises the shape of Salem.
    There are things we know by heart,
    and things we don't.

    At 13 my friend Jen tried to teach me how to blow rings of smoke.
    I'd watch the nicotine rising from her lips like halos,
    but I could never make dying beautiful.
    The sky didn't fill with colors the night I convinced myself
    veins are kite strings you can only cut free.
    I suppose I love this life,

    in spite of my clenched fist.

    I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree,
    and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers,
    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.

    But my lungs remember
    the day my mother took my hand and placed it on her belly
    and told me the symphony beneath was my baby sister's heartbeat.
    And I knew life would tremble
    like the first tear on a prison guard's hardened cheek,
    like a prayer on a dying man's lips,
    like a vet holding a full bottle of whisky like an empty gun in a war zone…
    just take me just take me

    Sometimes the scales themselves weigh far too much,
    the heaviness of forever balancing blue sky with red blood.
    We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways,
    but you still have to call it a birthday.
    You still have to fall for the prettiest girl on the playground at recess
    and hope she knows you can hit a baseball
    further than any boy in the whole third grade

    and I've been running for home
    through the windpipe of a man who sings
    while his hands playing washboard with a spoon
    on a street corner in New Orleans
    where every boarded up window is still painted with the words
    We're Coming Back
    like a promise to the ocean
    that we will always keep moving towards the music,
    the way Basquait slept in a cardboard box to be closer to the rain.

    Beauty, catch me on your tongue.
    Thunder, clap us open.
    The pupils in our eyes were not born to hide beneath their desks.
    Tonight lay us down to rest in the Arizona desert,
    then wake us washing the feet of pregnant women
    who climbed across the border with their bellies aimed towards the sun.
    I know a thousand things louder than a soldier's gun.
    I know the heartbeat of his mother.

    Don't cover your ears, Love.
    Don't cover your ears, Life.
    There is a boy writing poems in Central Park
    and as he writes he moves
    and his bones become the bars of Mandela's jail cell stretching apart,
    and there are men playing chess in the December cold
    who can't tell if the breath rising from the board
    is their opponents or their own,
    and there's a woman on the stairwell of the subway
    swearing she can hear Niagara Falls from her rooftop in Brooklyn,
    and I'm remembering how Niagara Falls is a city overrun
    with strip malls and traffic and vendors
    and one incredibly brave river that makes it all worth it.

    Ya'll, 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 brave river
    that has to run through the center of our hearts
    to find its way home.”
    Andrea Gibson

  • #29
    Andrea Gibson
    “I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.”
    Andrea Gibson

  • #30
    Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
    “If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers...”
    Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince



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