Quotes by John Mark Green

Your transformation will begin the moment you stop worrying for someone rise to rescue you.

Were all in the human race. The question is, are you running toward your dreams or just away from your fears?

She was a tragic beauty. Sadness had left its fingerprints all over her face.

Rusted FlowersFrom her heart’stear-salted soil,rusted flowers grew.A serrated beauty;wounding all those who bent near.

Birthing is never easy or without pain, be it a universe, a child, or a fresh start in life. Contraction precedes expansion. Darkness comes before dawn. Joy follows pain. This is the way of things.

Opening to love will always involve risk,but a heart safe from pain is one also locked to joy.

Sadness is a bruise on the skin of memory.

When sorrows cup is filled up to the brim,the slightest touch of memory can cause tears to spill again.

His heart was like a battered guitar; worn and scuffed from a life spentout on the road, but still capableof bringing forth beautiful music.

I am no blank slate for love to write on.My heart has walls marred with cracks,bloodstains, and bullet holes;graffitied over by past lovers.

Strangely incurious, her lovers from before. She has worlds within Im longing to explore.

She had a very inconvenient heart. It always insisted on feeling things ever so deeply.

She thirsted for love, but found only a mirage. Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in.

I want to hold you close, skin on skin, and let our heartbeats have a conversation.

I walk these lonely streets at dark. Just me and the night; crowded head, empty heart.

When life gets dark, thats when stars appear among us. Shine bright, beautiful ones. Throw light from your burning hearts.

When I lean my ear up against your seashell heart, I can hear an ocean of love roaring inside.

And if we never visit Paris, thats okay. Your heart is my exotic destination every day.

The door to her heart was locked up tight, but he could still see a faint glow escaping through the keyhole.

Within every hearts Winter sleeps the promise of Spring.