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She perched on her windowsill, gazing at the lurid sun soaking into the Caldera, trying to appreciate it even though she couldn’t have it. Why did she always feel she had to do something in the face of beauty?
Ann Brashares
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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Even
Sun
Trying
Couldn
Something
Beauty
Windowsill
Always
Face
Lurid
Though
Perched
Faces
Soaking
Feel
Gazing
Feels
Appreciate
More quotes by Ann Brashares
She wasn't as destructive as Bee. She had never been as dramatic. Rather, she'd slipped carefully, stealthily away from her ghosts.
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Time is what keeps things from happening all at once.
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You should find him because he loves you.
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I killed her once and died for her many times
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You carry your past with you even if you don't remember any of it.
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She loved her mother and depended on her mother, and yet every single word her mother said annoyed her.
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She knew whose love she doubted. It wasn't her parents' and it wasn't her friends: It was her own.
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She realized all at once the deeper thing that bothered her, the thing that made him not just irritating but intolerable: how he kept loving her blindly when she deserved it so little.
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Particularly beautiful people were like particularly funny-looking people, though. Once you know them you mostly forgot about it.
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It's so much easier to have no expectations than to have big ones.
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She hadn't chosen the brave life. She'd chosen the small, fearful one.
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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?
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Love is like war easy to begin, hard to end.
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How could you cleanse yourself if you couldn’t forget?
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Love didn't necessarily look the way you expected it to.
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Different people were good at different things, Lena mused. Lena was good at writing thank-you notes, for instance, and Effie was good at being happy.
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So far, she’d been her usual lame self: solitary and routine-loving, carefully avoiding any path that might lead to spontaneous human interaction. Lena Kaligaris
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I love the idea of fictional worlds kind of all cohering in some way.
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Healing wasn’t always the best thing. Sometimes a hole was better left open. Sometimes it healed too thick and too well and left separate pieces fused and incompetent. And it was harder to reopen after that.
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Pain is fear, and I'm not afraid.
Ann Brashares
