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The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color - oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples.
Anna Godbersen
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Anna Godbersen
Age: 44
Born: 1980
Born: April 10
Writer
Berkeley
California
Oranges
Firsts
Stab
First
Blaze
Love
Vibrant
Like
Orange
Purples
Sunset
Pinks
Crush
Pearly
Color
More quotes by Anna Godbersen
It is a fact of big cities that one girl's darkest how is always another's moment of shining triumph, and New York is the biggest and cruelest city of them all.
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There was plenty of life left and if he had to he would use it all to get her back. The time had passed for making promises to her-all that was left for him was to act.
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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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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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She had rarely been near Henry since then, and the sight of him now was like a concentrated dose.
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Living too much in one's head can be dangerous.
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They were all dressed in their finest as though life really were some magical stage play in which every moment ought to be illuminated with its own bright spotlight.
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Ah well that I can't tell you. Diana ducked her head so that the brim of her bonnet covered her face. Some things must remain a mystery and for now I think I'll keep my opinion of you and your compliments to myself.
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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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They were a society whose chief vocations were to entertain and be entertained.
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She had had no idea what it would do to her seeing him in a suit.
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She was a vision in a white gown her dark hair forming a hazy halo around her rosy heart-shaped face. Her long lashes fluttered to touch her cheeks and then her eyes opened fully in his direction. Her small round mouth flexed in an immediate and knowing smile. That's the girl I'm going to marry Henry thought.
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Heart-stopping envy is the sincerest form of flattery.
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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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There was no pleasure like being envied on a mass scale.
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You love her, Teddy observed quietly. Henry replied with an uncharacteristic lack of irony: Yes. Teddy's eyes shifted to the plaster interlacing that decorated the ceiling in curlicues. Lord, you never make it easy, do you. No.
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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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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.
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That was the way love was, she guessed-it left you always unsteady on your feet.
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They will stop calling brides beautiful after today—you have simply set the standard too high,' he said.
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