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I love that blurry place where life’s transitions are made without you even knowing it.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Without
Even
Made
Love
Transitions
Life
Blurry
Transition
Knowing
Place

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Shy” was the sympathetic interpretation she got from older people. “Snotty” was the interpretation she got from people her own age.
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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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I'm not going anywhere without you. We're swimming to China together. And if the worst happens, I'm dying with you before I'm living without you.
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Everything I ever said to you was true and is true.
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She must have sensed she never really had him. That was a sadness of hers, he knew.
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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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You'll turn out ordinary if you're not careful.
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She used to cry roughly three times a year. Now she seemed to cry three times before breakfast. Could that be considered progress?
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Sometimes you couldn’t face the sadness of being forgotten until you felt the comfort of being remembered again.
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She'd cried over a broken heart before. She knew what that felt like, and it didn't feel like this. Her heart felt not so much broken as just ... empty. It felt like she was an outline empty in the middle. The outline cried senselessly for the absent middle. The past cried for the present that was nothing.
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You should find him because he loves you.
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The weather turned. Her skin seemed to grow a million extra pores, and all of them opened to take in the warmth and tenderness of the air. The sun on her face made her want to cry. Into all those millions of open pores came the sunshine, and other feelings as well. In and out. She was porous.
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Sometimes he felt sure that the key to happiness was a poor memory.
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He didn't seem to realize that three excuses was as good as no excuse.
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Can you make yourself love? Can you make yourself loved? -Lena Kaligaris
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She had willed her heart to stay small and contained, but it wouldn’t be. Oh, well.
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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.
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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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I'm dying with you before I'm living without you.
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Love didn't necessarily look the way you expected it to.
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