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A part of her wanted to tell him she still loved him, and that even though this love was hopeless and long over, it still consumed her year after year. It was a tangled hairball of feelings and she couldn't pull forth any one strand.
Ann Brashares
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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Love
Tell
Hopeless
Stills
Pull
Part
Forth
Still
Couldn
Wanted
Loved
Strand
Even
Year
Strands
Long
Though
Tangled
Years
Feelings
Consumed
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She realized all at once the deeper thing that bothered her, the thing that made him not just irritating but intolerable: how he kept loving her blindly when she deserved it so little.
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When there is nothing, there is the possibility of everything.
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It was wrong. But it was worth it.
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Life isn't just fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all. -William Goldman
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Can you make yourself love? Can you make yourself loved? -Lena Kaligaris
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Wish for what you want, work for what you need. -Carmen's grandmother
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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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Knowing where she was in the world, even if he never touched her, gave him a deep satisfaction, and he half despised himself for being satisfied with so little.
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As the three of them walked home from the trees, nobody needed to say it, but Ama knew. They had questioned their friendship. They had searched and wondered, looking for a sign. And all along they'd had their trees. You couldn't wear them. You couldn't pass them around. They offered no fashion advantage. But they had roots. They lived.
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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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Don't talk to me. I'm tired and grumpy and I'll probably make fun of you.
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You know what the secret is? It's so simple. We love one another. We're nice to one another. Do you know how rare that is? - Carmen
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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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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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To write a story, I think you really have to open yourself up to the world.
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Something about giving in without a fight felt wrong.
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Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday.
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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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Carmen didn't like change, and she certainly didn't like endings.
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Exactly! We run or we lose ourselves in something, somebody, anything to try and ease our pain.
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