A Quote by Andrea Gibson

But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine. — © Andrea Gibson
But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine.
Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.
But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back.
I think I got a bruise from landing on you. I hear bacon is real good for healing a bruise.
When I had my tryout, just from two days being in the ring, learning to bump, hit the ropes, and things like that, I came home, and my back was just one huge bruise.
I hated to bat against Drysdale. After he hit you he'd come around, look at the bruise on your arm and say, 'Do you want me to sign it?'
I bruise like a grape.
The first time I almost died was surfing: I got hit on the head with a board. I went under and started swimming until I hit the bottom of the ocean. I thought, 'Oh my God, I'm going the wrong way. Do I have enough air to get back up?' If you're a surfer, you know the feeling.
I've always known I bruise like a peach.
A flower, if you bruise it under your feet, rewards you by giving you its perfume.
I lost my balance, making my body unstable and falling on top of my opponent. At that moment I hit my face against the player leaving a small bruise on my cheek and a strong pain in my teeth.
Let her arm go and pray she has no bruise,” a familiar voice said in a low angry tone. I shuddered from relief at the sound of his voice. Trey released my arm and shrugged, grinning. “I just wanted an oyster, and she wouldn’t serve me.” I opened my mouth to protest when the warm fingers holding my arm softly squeezed me for reassurance. So, I stayed quiet. “Jason, please escort your friend to the door. I have no other reason to speak with him unless Sadie has a bruise or any lasting marks from his hands, and then he will see me again.
For some reason, I bruise like a peach. I don't have enough vitamin C, I think.
I learned the hard way. When I started hitting home runs, I thought, I can hit these pitches. Then I started thinking, if I can do this, I can hit the pitch four inches outside or four inches up. I expanded the zone and got myself out. Pitchers are smart. If they find out they don't have to throw strikes, they won't.
Don't bruise the Foo!
He’d actually hit me! It didn’t matter that hitting me wasn’t really like hitting a regular girl and I’d be completely healed in a matter of hours. I was still a freaking girl, and he damned well knew it. I’d just have to hit him back. With a lead pipe. Or an eighteen-wheeler.
Failure is a bruise, not a tattoo.
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