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I told him, though, that he better be good to you. When you came along, I said I'd share you, but I told him to remember that you're my sister. I loved you first.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Better
Sister
Firsts
Along
First
Told
Good
Loved
Share
Came
Though
Remember

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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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Everything good requires sacrifices.
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Everyone is fragile. Everything beautiful is fragile
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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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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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She was supposed to be putting her life together right now, and all she could seem to do was throw grenades at it.
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Show me a girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground and I'll show you a girl who can't put her pants on. -Annik Marchand
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Why does he have to be my boyfriend? Are you inferior if you don't have a boyfriend? Why does everybody have to be in love with somebody?
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She was astonished, and at the same time she knew. There were many things in life like that. You couldn’t imagine it, and then it happened and you couldn’t really imagine it hadn’t.
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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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What if people knew they were recycled? Would that change anything?
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Lena knew she had spent too much of her life in a state of passive dread, just waiting for something bad to happen. In a life like that, relief was as close as you got to happiness.
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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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She wasn’t sure if he wanted more from her or if he wanted less. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was always both.
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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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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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It was their mothers, long ago. Tibby noted with joy that all four of them were wearing jeans.
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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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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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Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday.
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