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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
Wanted
Loved
Strand
Even
Year
Strands
Long
Though
Tangled
Years
Feelings
Consumed
Love
Tell
Hopeless
Stills
Pull
Part
Forth
Still
Couldn

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To write a story, I think you really have to open yourself up to the world.
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Grief was like a newborn, and the first three months were hard as hell, but by six months you'd recognized defeat, shifted your life around, and made room for it.
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What Daniel taketh away, Daniel giveth.
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The happiness at getting what you want is not usually commensurate with the worry leading up to it.
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You should find him because he loves you.
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I killed her once and died for her many times and I still have nothing to show for it. I always search for her I always remember her. I carry the hope that someday she will remember me.
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Blood may be thicker than water, but friendship is thicker than both.
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She wasn't as destructive as Bee. She had never been as dramatic. Rather, she'd slipped carefully, stealthily away from her ghosts.
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He loved her for being so beautiful, and he hated her for it. He loved how she put shiny stuff on her lips for him, and he also reviled her for it. He wanted her to walk home alone, and he wanted to run after her and grab her up before she could take another step.
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Time is what keeps things from happening all at once.
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A tree is such a rich metaphor in a million beautiful ways. You can consider a tree growing and consider its connectedness to all things above and under the ground.
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Luck never gives it lends.
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People sometimes talk about the power of first impressions, and believe me, there is truth to it.
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She was sad about what happened to Kostos. And someplace under that, she was sad that people like Bee and Kostos, who had lost everything, were still open to love, and she, who'd lost nothing, was not.
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How terrible would it be to just wait there pathetically alone for him never to show up? Eudoxia's expression grew more serious. That's what you're doing anyway, my dear.
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She thought she was independent and strong, but she got one small taste of love and she was hungrier than anyone. She was ravenous.
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Maybe happiness was just a matter of the little upticks- the traffic signal that said Walk the second you go there- and downticks- the itch tag at the back of your collar- that happened to every person in the course of the day. Maybe everybody had the same allotted measure of happiness within each day.
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I like that you let yourself be surprised
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For some reason our lives were marked by summers. . . . Summer was the time when our lives joined completely, when we all had our birthdays, when really important things happened
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But then she hadn’t just learned to love this summer – she had also learned how to need.
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