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She hadn't chosen the brave life. She'd chosen the small, fearful one.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Brave
Small
Life
Fearful
Hadn
Chosen

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When I turned fifteen, I remember my father gave me a credit card which I was allowed to use for two things: emergencies and books.
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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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You'll turn out ordinary if you're not careful.
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He's had a lot of chances to care, and he hasn't.
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She closed her eyes. I didn't know that. i didn't know anything. It scares me the things I told myself. But I would have told myself almost anything, because I wanted to believe him. Why? Because I wanted to be with you.
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There was nothing new in sitting on this dock, on this or that wooden bench, watching for his boat to come. In some ways, she was always waiting for him.
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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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Once Paul told her that the beach was like him because it changed every day but it never made any progress. Later she remembered thinking that a normal person might have begun by saying that he was like the beach.
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There are going to be moments of deep, deep doubts, and you have to have faith that your initial idea was good and just muddle through.
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Healing wasn’t always the best thing. Sometimes a hole was better left open. Sometimes it healed too thick and too well and left separate pieces fused and incompetent. And it was harder to reopen after that.
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No matter how far back you cut a willow tree, it will never really die.
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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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Don't talk to me. I'm tired and grumpy and I'll probably make fun of you.
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Carmen didn't like change, and she certainly didn't like endings.
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She kept walking. The very small, brave part of her brain knew that this would be her one chance. If she turned around, she would lose it.
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How could you cleanse yourself if you couldn’t forget?
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Marnie hated to see her spend so much of herself on someone who didn't care.
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But I know this. We're ready to move forward again in our way. Together or apart, no matter how far apart, we live in one another. We go on together.
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All I could think to do was love her. That's all a person can do.
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There was a moment in between, a moment flung free in the midst of the transition, when he made contact. That was the moment she would dwell on.
Ann Brashares