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She wanted him to see all of her and also none of her. She wanted him to be dazzled by the bits and blinded by the whole. She wanted him to see her whole and not in pieces. She had hopes that were hard to satisfy.
Ann Brashares
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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
None
Pieces
Bits
Also
Wanted
Dazzled
Whole
Blinded
Hard
Satisfy
Love
Hopes
More quotes by Ann Brashares
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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Something about giving in without a fight felt wrong.
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It was their mothers, long ago. Tibby noted with joy that all four of them were wearing jeans.
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Luck never gives it lends.
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For some reason our lives were marked by summers. . . . Summer was the time when our lives joined completely, when we all had our birthdays, when really important things happened
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Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Her memories were a prison. The people she loved. She couldn't get away from the hurt of them. She could leave Eric, walk out of her apartment, walk forever if she liked, but she couldn't escape what really hurt. Tonight even the sky felt like a prison.
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You hold on to old experiences: injuries, injustices, and great love affairs, too. And you hold them in your joints and your organs, and wear them on your skin.
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The dreams weren’t as pleasing when they had no chance of coming true
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Forget Jack, I'm in love with the cold, dirt floor.
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There were certain qualities you possessed carelessly. And you couldn't retrieve them when they were gone. The very act of caring made them impossible to regain.
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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?
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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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Bridget's anger evaporated and the sadness came back. The anger was easier. She owned and contolled it, whereas the sadness owned her.
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The most haunting thing was not that he didn't love her anymore. She could have accepted that eventually. The most haunting thing was that he did. He loved her from afar. He loved her in a way that was preserved in time, that couldn't be sullied. And she tended it in her careful, curatorial way.
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It was like a dream you might have after death in which lost people came back to life, your friends loved you again no matter what you had done, and your failures were unaccountably forgiven.
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He took her hand and they started walking toward the baggage claim. They didn't say anything to each other. They swung their held hands like little kids, like they believed anything could happen, like they might take off soaring into the air. All the things you wanted to happen could happen. Why not?
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If you didn't have a choice, you had to make a choice. If you didn't have options, you made some. You couldn't just let this world happen to you... he didn't see eternity. He saw this girl and this moment and this one slim chance.
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Love is like war easy to begin, hard to end.
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Parents were the only ones obligated to love you from the rest of the world you had to earn it.
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He could lose himself in her forever, he thought.
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