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She used to cry roughly three times a year. Now she seemed to cry three times before breakfast. Could that be considered progress?
Ann Brashares
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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Years
Considered
Seemed
Cry
Progress
Year
Times
Three
Roughly
Used
Breakfast
More quotes by Ann Brashares
She wasn’t sure if he wanted more from her or if he wanted less. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was always both.
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Sometimes you need to make a mess. -Loretta, the Rollinses' hosekeeper
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But certain souls cohere. It's rare but possible. But it takes two powerful wills to make it so.
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Every life I start with her, my original sin. I know myself through her.
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Knowing where she was in the world, even if he never touched her, gave him a deep satisfaction, and he half despised himself for being satisfied with so little.
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It was funny to hear her voice aloud. Her thoughts and perceptions usually existed so deep inside her, they rarely made it to the surface without a deliberate effort.
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As much as I'm drawn to writing about teenage girls, I like the idea of having the freedom to branch out and write about different ages, for different ages.
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I was supposed to write a romantic comedy, but my characters broke up.
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She wanted him to notice her so much.
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All the things she planned to feel, the way she planned to look and seem, the appropriate things she planned to say. None of them came to pass.
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She was still waiting for him to come back to her, even though he wasn't going to. She was still holding out for something that wasn't going to happen. She was good at waiting. That seemed like a sad thing to be good at.
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Wear them, they will make you brave.
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You have been with me from the very first life. You are my first memory every time, the single thread in all of my lives. It`s you who makes me a person.
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All my life, everybody has seen me a certain way. What do you see?
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They were here all at once, but not together. Survival took self-absorption, and it made them strangers with nothing to do and no way to relate. Emergencies gave you a shape and a plot to take part in, while death was no story at all. It left you nothing.
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I told him, though, that he better be good to you. When you came along, I said I'd share you, but I told him to remember that you're my sister. I loved you first.
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How could you cleanse yourself if you couldn’t forget?
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Everyone is fragile. Everything beautiful is fragile
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Carmen didn't like change, and she certainly didn't like endings.
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A tree is such a rich metaphor in a million beautiful ways. You can consider a tree growing and consider its connectedness to all things above and under the ground.
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