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A loving soul was always more beautiful over the long haul, but actual prettiness was fleeting.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Loving
Beautiful
Soul
Long
Always
Prettiness
Haul
Fleeting
Actual

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For the first time she saw that the nurse's name was Tabitha.
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I did the searching and remembering, she did the disappearing and the forgetting.
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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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Sometimes you need to make a mess. -Loretta, the Rollinses' hosekeeper
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I love the idea of fictional worlds kind of all cohering in some way.
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People left a lot of things behind when they went in the water. Their clothes, their stuff, their makeup, their fixed-up hair, their voices, their hearing, their sight—at least as the normally experienced them.
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There were those emotions down there, and though she couldn't quite feel them, they were strong and she feared them. It was like watching a thunderhead from high up in a plane, and though you weren't under it, you knew how it would feel if you were. You knew you'd have to land eventually.
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The word friends doesn't seem to stretch big enough to describe how we feel about each other. We forget where one of us starts and the other one stops.
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I did love her. I've loved her from the first time I saw her.
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As a writer, you live in such isolation. It's hard to imagine your book has a life beyond you.
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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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Parents were the only ones obligated to love you from the rest of the world you had to earn it.
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There was love expressed in the places you usually forget to look.
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You have been with me from the very first life. You are my first memory every time, the single thread in all of my lives. It`s you who makes me a person.
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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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How could you cleanse yourself if you couldn’t forget?
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I sometimes think the stronger you feel about someone, the harder it is to picture their face when you are away from them.
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And I thought about the color and I realized what blue it was. It was the soft and changeable, essential blue of a well-worn pair of pants. Pants = Love
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Every life I start with her, my original sin. I know myself through her.
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Bridget's anger evaporated and the sadness came back. The anger was easier. She owned and contolled it, whereas the sadness owned her.
Ann Brashares