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She glared at him, feeling the old frustration. Sometimes in his presence she felt the deepest connection to him, and other times she felt completely alone-as though any bond to him was her own bitter imagination.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Alone
Deepest
Feeling
Frustration
Though
Connection
Times
Bitter
Felt
Presence
Feelings
Connections
Sometimes
Completely
Glared
Imagination
Bond

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For the first time she saw that the nurse's name was Tabitha.
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What can I say? I'm obsessed. And as we all know obsessed girls can't be held responsible for our actions.
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I want to go where you're going. I'm not scared of dying. I want to stay together and come back together. You said that souls cohere. I want to stay with you.
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But then she hadn’t just learned to love this summer – she had also learned how to need.
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Exactly! We run or we lose ourselves in something, somebody, anything to try and ease our pain.
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Lena was an introvert. She knew she had trouble connecting with people. She always felt like her looks were fake bait, seeming to offer a bridge to people, which she couldn't easily cross.
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Maybe happiness was just a matter of the little upticks- the traffic signal that said Walk the second you go there- and downticks- the itch tag at the back of your collar- that happened to every person in the course of the day. Maybe everybody had the same allotted measure of happiness within each day.
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Alice suspected Paul couldn’t really picture his father, just like she couldn’t picture Paul when he was away. Maybe that was the case with people you wanted more than was good for you.
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Love didn't necessarily look the way you expected it to.
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It's always nervewracking to put yourself out there. But it's the root of joy.
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We aren't in high school. We aren't really in our families and we aren't in our houses. Those are the places we grew up and the times we spent together, but they aren't us. If think they are, then we're lost, because times end and places are lost. We aren't any place or any time . . . We are everywhere.
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Besides being asked why I write about young characters, I am often asked how I write about young characters. How do I throw myself across the chasm of full adulthood to relive that period? I guess I don’t, really. Age is not so much a feature of your character, as the spot where you stand for a pretty fleeting time on the arc of your life.
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Something about giving in without a fight felt wrong.
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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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Their friendship was only one aspect of their lives but it seemed to give meaning to all the others.
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Hey, he said. It's someday. He said the last word in Greek.
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I look back on my 20s. It's supposed to be the prime of your life, the most vital, the most beautiful. But you're making your critical decisions and sometimes your most critical mistakes.
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I always interpret coincidences as little clues to our destiny
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You could feel things or you could find a way to shut down. But once you were feeling things, you couldn’t decide exactly what to feel. That was the trouble with letting them in at all. They made a mess of the place.
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She wanted him to notice her so much.
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