Quote

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.

Anna Godbersen

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Anna Godbersen
Age: 44
Born: 1980
Born: April 10
Writer
Berkeley
California
Character
Protesting
Writing
Heroines
Love
Describing
Like
Kept
Novel
Went
Narrator
Desire
Narrators
Strong
Heroine

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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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Among her other talents were forgetting what she did not like and ignoring what she preferred not to see.
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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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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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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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Her heart the damned thing had begun to race and she only hoped that the rapid inflation and deflation of her chest wasn't visible beneath her fitted bodice.
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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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She should have know that villains often come with pretty faces.
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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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A young woman, newly wed, may find herself in the delightful position of wanting to do nothing without the company of her darling husband. She may indeed discover that she spends all her waking hours with her fellow to the exclusion of every other friend or family member. This is understandable, but wholly unacceptable, to society.
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You don’t need to marry a man with millions. You only need to be your exquisite self.
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She felt so much aware of her own beauty it seemed inconceivable that everybody else wouldn't notice the difference too.
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They were a society whose chief vocations were to entertain and be entertained.
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Things only looked wrong when there was someone to see you.
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She had had no idea what it would do to her seeing him in a suit.
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There was no pleasure like being envied on a mass scale.
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Henry closed his eyes and imagined the sweet petulant woundedness with which she had stared at him on the beach. He felt a little proud that she could love him.
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She was trying to sound tough and impatient, but she knew that vulnerable desire to be wooed was still brimming in her tone.
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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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Even when a girl is married she still never completely leaves her mother and father's home.
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