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He was a mystery to her, and every time she tried to solve him it caused her a little more pain. But when she tired to give him up he pursued her in her thoughts, stronger each time.

Anna Godbersen

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Anna Godbersen
Age: 44
Born: 1980
Born: April 10
Writer
Berkeley
California
Time
Thoughts
Pursued
Pain
Caused
Running
Envy
Give
Solve
Littles
Tired
Little
Tried
Giving
Stronger
Every
Mystery

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Good night.' Diana summoned all the dignity that she could manage in her bedraggled state and began to move back up the beach. Her dress was soaked and her stockings dotted with sand and her heart couldn't possibly withstand any more.
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Her life, she realized, had all the charm of a steel trap.
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What was it about that short creature with her wild hair and spurious air of purity and why would anyone much less two men love her and to such disastrous ends.
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Diana knew it wouldn't be right, but then she told herself that things only looked wrong when there was someone to see you.
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The living are made of nothing but flaws. The dead, with each passing day in the afterlife, become more and more impeccable to those who remain earthbound.
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We see our sins reflected everywhere: in the pallor of our intimates’ faces, in the scratching of tree branches against windows, in the strange movements of everyday objects. These may be messages from God or tricks of the eye, but in neither case are we permitted to ignore them.
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Heart-stopping envy is the sincerest form of flattery.
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That was how the heroine of a book would play it and Diana was still writing her own story the best heroines she'd always believed took their fate into their own hands.
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Girls, their mother interjected, you must both stop being strange - it is unattractive. And don't forget your hats. It would be absolutely the end for me if you two came down with freckles at a time like this.
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So this was betrayal. It was like being left alone in the desert at dusk without water or warmth. It left your mouth dry and will broken. It sapped your tears and made you hollow.
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To look in the face of hard things and keep moving forward - that's what one has to do.
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After Henry's treatment of her she wasn't sure that men could honestly love women but she wanted to believe it. She wanted to be told pretty things and for the frightening clip of her heart to slow to something more reasonable.
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He was just like summer, and she loved summer. If she had any wish, it would be to live a lifetime of summers.
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It is well known that a man, when wooing a lady to be his wife, must first win over the females she most confides in—her friends, of course, and her sister, if she has one.
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Henry was thinking of the younger Holland sister of the way she could go from being an impetuous girl to a knowing woman in a few seconds and never lose the stars in her eyes.
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She was like a heroine in a novel that she herself was writing the character kept protesting that she was too strong for love and yet the narrator went on describing her desire.
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I've always believed in savoring the moments. In the end, they are the only things we'll have.
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Well, if you weren't flirting with him-his voice had now grown a little plaintive-who was he, and what did you want with him anyway? If you are so determined to bore me, I may just have to go home. Astrid sighed carelessly, What a shame, when I am wearing such a pretty dress.
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So this is how life was, she thought with a faint smile: It wore you down until you emerged at its wildest, most unexpected ends.
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