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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.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Always
Open
Hole
Life
Left
Thick
Best
Holes
Better
Separate
Wells
Healing
Reopen
Well
Harder
Fused
Sometimes
Pieces
Incompetent
Thing
Wasn
Healed

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He had to fight. That's all he had. Not memories, not experiences, not skills. He had a will. And his will was to fight until he couldn't fight anymore.
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If you ever meet a guy and you fall in love with him, but because of some weird genetic mutation he doesn't seem to return the feeling?... Wear that dress.
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When there is nothing, there is the possibility of everything.
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I love you, I'll never stop.
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Pain is fear, and I'm not afraid.
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She had never had a boy talk to her like that. There was no cover of bullshit, no flirtation, no added charm, but his look was searing. He was different from anyone she had known.
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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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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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Developing characters is a strange thing. In the beginning they are abstract and I wonder how to move on from there.
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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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I killed her once and died for her many times
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Every life I start with her, my original sin. I know myself through her.
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How terrible would it be to just wait there pathetically alone for him never to show up? Eudoxia's expression grew more serious. That's what you're doing anyway, my dear.
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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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All the things she planned to feel, the way she planned to look and seem, the appropriate things she planned to say. None of them came to pass.
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He was the strangest of strangers in that he was also her oldest friend.
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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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Tibby's wish would be to hold on to the idea of love even in the face of darkest doubt. Because that was the way in which she failed. Not once, but again and again.
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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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Sometimes it is a relief to be invisible
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