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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.
Ann Brashares
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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Ways
Dock
Waiting
Docks
Come
Wooden
Nothing
Bench
Way
Benches
Always
Boat
Watching
Sitting
More quotes by Ann Brashares
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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You couldn't erase the past. You couldn't even change it. But sometimes life offered you the opportunity to put it right.
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I did love her. I've loved her from the first time I saw her.
Ann Brashares
My household is, in a nice way, very busy.
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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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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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How could you cleanse yourself if you couldn’t forget?
Ann Brashares
All I could think to do was love her. That's all a person can do.
Ann Brashares
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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When she is happy, she can't stop talking, when she is sad she doesn't say a word.
Ann Brashares
His distress and pleasure mixed and married, giving birth to several anxious children.
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She was alive, and they were dead. She had to try to make her life big. As big as she could. She promised Bailey she would keep playing.
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I killed her once and died for her many times and I still have nothing to show for it. I always search for her I always remember her. I carry the hope that someday she will remember me.
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You surround yourself with your pain or you avoid it and let it find you when you are trying to do other things
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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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Grief was like a newborn, and the first three months were hard as hell, but by six months you'd recognized defeat, shifted your life around, and made room for it.
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She thought she was independent and strong, but she got one small taste of love and she was hungrier than anyone. She was ravenous.
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She went around with a broken heart, and she wasn't sure who'd broken it. She thought it was herself, mostly.
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Bridget cried for the leavers and the left. For the people, like herself, grimly forsaking what precious gifts they would ever get.
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Sometimes he felt sure that the key to happiness was a poor memory.
Ann Brashares
