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It was their mothers, long ago. Tibby noted with joy that all four of them were wearing jeans.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Jeans
Mothers
Wearing
Joy
Four
Mother
Long
Noted

More quotes by Ann Brashares

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He just wanted to look at her and know her life was marching along under the same arch of time and space as he is.
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How is it that a person could be so relieved and so disappointed, both at the same time.
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Ruins stood for what was lost, and yet there were beautiful-peaceful, historic, intellectual. Not tragic or regrettable. Lena tried to keep hers that way too, and she succeeded to some extent. Why not celebrate what you had rather than spend your time mourning its passing? There could be joy in things that ended.
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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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He could lose himself in her forever, he thought.
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She had to have faith not just in trying but in failing. Was she strong enough to fail Was she strong enough not to
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You get older and you learn there is one sentence just four worlds long and if you can say it to yourself it offers more comfort than almost any other. It goes like this… Ready ” “Ready.” “At least I tried.
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How many times could you give up on someone you loved?
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She couldn’t hide from everyone for the rest of her life… Well she could. That was the direction things were going. But she knew from long-ago experience that when you were uncertain and if you were courageous enough to let her in a real friend could do a world of good.
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Tibby cried into her soup when it finally came. I'm scared... , she told it. The carrots and peas made no reply, but she felt better for having told them.
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The present no matter what I brought couldn’t change the past. The Past was set and sealed.
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She wondered if maybe tragedy was what it took to make your heart capable of admitting a new member.
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What happened to me by myself felt partly dreamed, partly imagined, definitely shifted and warped by my own fears and wants. But who knows? Maybe there is more truth in how you feel than in what actually happens.
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There was nothing new in sitting on this dock, on this or that wooden bench, watching for his boat to come. In some ways, she was always waiting for him.
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He no longer represented someday a possibility. He represented a road not taken a road that suddenly shot so far into the distance she couldn’t see it anymore.
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She liked the life she had. She loved habits. She craved a day with nothing in it, a long, quiet stretch of hours in the studio.
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I like that you let yourself be surprised
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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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Something about giving in without a fight felt wrong.
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Starting is hard so I really need to give myself permission to do a bad job. I always give myself leave to write total nonsense for as long as I need to release the pressure, because it's really hard to start if you feel like that first sentence you write has to actually mean something.
Ann Brashares