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As a writer, you live in such isolation. It's hard to imagine your book has a life beyond you.

Ann Brashares

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Ann Brashares
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: July 30
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
City of Alexandria
Virginia
Live
Book
Hard
Life
Isolation
Beyond
Writer
Imagine

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Marnie loved her better and more honestly than anyone else in the world, with the possible exception of her mother, who loved her intensely if not honestly.
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If you ever meet a guy and you fall in love with him, but because of some weird genetic mutation he doesn't seem to return the feeling?... Wear that dress.
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Bridget's anger evaporated and the sadness came back. The anger was easier. She owned and contolled it, whereas the sadness owned her.
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I knew her hair and her coloring and her shapes would be different next time, but the way she wore her body would keep on.
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You just have to let people love you in the way they can
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Carmen didn't like change, and she certainly didn't like endings.
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I look back on my 20s. It's supposed to be the prime of your life, the most vital, the most beautiful. But you're making your critical decisions and sometimes your most critical mistakes.
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Women always seemed to bring the size they wished they were to the fitting room, rather than the size that would actually fit.
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Particularly beautiful people were like particularly funny-looking people, though. Once you know them you mostly forgot about it.
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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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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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You forget your victories, but you remember the losses.
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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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They were here all at once, but not together. Survival took self-absorption, and it made them strangers with nothing to do and no way to relate. Emergencies gave you a shape and a plot to take part in, while death was no story at all. It left you nothing.
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Love is like war easy to begin, hard to end.
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There are two kinds of people in this world. The kind who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don't.
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People left a lot of things behind when they went in the water. Their clothes, their stuff, their makeup, their fixed-up hair, their voices, their hearing, their sight—at least as the normally experienced them.
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She had to have faith not just in trying but in failing. Was she strong enough to fail Was she strong enough not to
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But will he come I just want to know what you think the odds are. Tell me what you really think. I think Tibby was a wise girl. I think she loved 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
Ann Brashares