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The phone was her worst enemy and her best friend but she never knew which until she answered it.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Best
Never
Answered
Phone
Phones
Friend
Worst
Knew
Enemy

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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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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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Luck never gives it lends.
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But there were times when you felt miserable and you wanted to feel better, and other times when you felt miserable and you figured you would just keep on feeling miserable.
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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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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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It took the real thing to show you the size of your delusions.
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I killed her once and died for her many times
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But like everything else, love changed.
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There was one thing Bridget like about guys. They took insults well.
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It was hard to feel the right emotions at the right times. They didn’t come at all when you set a place for them, and they sacked when you weren’t ready, when you were just innocently flossing your teeth, for example, or eating a bowl of cereal.
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The distinction has blurred between young adult and adult books. Some of the teen books have become more sophisticated.
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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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There are two kinds of people in this world. The kind who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don't.
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I did love her. I've loved her from the first time I saw her.
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It’s more that I’m afraid of time. And not having enough of it. Time to figure out who I’m supposed to be… to find my place in the world before I have to leave it. I’m afraid of what I’ll miss.
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She liked the life she had. She loved habits. She craved a day with nothing in it, a long, quiet stretch of hours in the studio.
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Gestating characters feels something like the mental equivalent of gestating a baby. In both cases, to create them you lose yourself. Or at least you reshape yourself to encompass them.
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Hey, he said. It's someday. He said the last word in Greek.
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Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Her memories were a prison. The people she loved. She couldn't get away from the hurt of them. She could leave Eric, walk out of her apartment, walk forever if she liked, but she couldn't escape what really hurt. Tonight even the sky felt like a prison.
Ann Brashares