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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.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Idea
Wish
Ideas
Darkest
Even
Failed
Way
Hold
Would
Doubt
Love
Face
Faces

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She spilled rice on my knee, and she smiled. I wanted her to spill a thousand things on me, lava, acid, bricks, anything, and smile each time
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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 existed in her friends there she was. All the parts of herself she'd forgotten. She knew herself best when she was with them.
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Everything good requires sacrifices.
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The happiness at getting what you want is not usually commensurate with the worry leading up to it.
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People sometimes talk about the power of first impressions, and believe me, there is truth to it.
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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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Particularly beautiful people were like particularly funny-looking people, though. Once you know them you mostly forgot about it.
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You are not going to die, I know I said I'd let you, but I can't.
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It was funny to hear her voice aloud. Her thoughts and perceptions usually existed so deep inside her, they rarely made it to the surface without a deliberate effort.
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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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Age is not so much a feature of your character, as the spot where you stand for a pretty fleeting time on the arc of your life.
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All my life, everybody has seen me a certain way. What do you see?
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She closed her eyes. I didn't know that. i didn't know anything. It scares me the things I told myself. But I would have told myself almost anything, because I wanted to believe him. Why? Because I wanted to be with you.
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When she is happy, she can't stop talking, when she is sad she doesn't say a word.
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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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Maybe, sometimes, it's easier to be mad at the people you trust because you know they'll always love you, no matter what.
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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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He didn't seem to realize that three excuses was as good as no excuse.
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Blood may be thicker than water, but friendship is thicker than both.
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