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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.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Talk
Searing
Known
Flirtation
Look
Added
Looks
Bullshit
Different
Cover
Never
Charm
Like
Boys
Anyone

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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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I love her. I need her. I gave away everything I had for her. I just wanted her to know me.
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It was like a dream you might have after death in which lost people came back to life, your friends loved you again no matter what you had done, and your failures were unaccountably forgiven.
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Everyone is fragile. Everything beautiful is fragile
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Marnie hated to see her spend so much of herself on someone who didn't care.
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You couldn't erase the past. You couldn't even change it. But sometimes life offered you the opportunity to put it right.
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He'd pushed her. He'd scared her. He'd besieged her. He'd vowed he wouldn't, and he did.
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He tricked himself into thinking that she would look into his eyes and remember, that love would conquer all.
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Sometimes he felt sure that the key to happiness was a poor memory.
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You thought you had the choice to stay still or move forward, but your didn't. As long as your heart kept pumping an your blood kept blowing and your lungs kept filling, you didn't. The pang she felt for Tibby carried something like envy. You couldn't stand still for anything short of death, and God knew she had tried.
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She glared at him, feeling the old frustration. Sometimes in his presence she felt the deepest connection to him, and other times she felt completely alone-as though any bond to him was her own bitter imagination.
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She knew that when she got old it would be more fun to look back on a life of romance and adventure than a life of quiet habits. But looking back was easy. It was the doing that was painful. There were plenty of things she would like to look back on but wasn't willing to risk.
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She remembered me.' This was his worst weakness, his most toxic drug.
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It's so much easier to have no expectations than to have big ones.
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Polly was pretty good at dieting, all right, but she was beginning to wonder whether you ever lost the parts of your self that you wanted to lose.
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I killed her once and died for her many times
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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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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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Wish for what you want, work for what you need. -Carmen's grandmother
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