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She found herself longing for home-not just for the hotel but for New York and all the real novels that she could lose herself in there.

Anna Godbersen

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Anna Godbersen
Age: 44
Born: 1980
Born: April 10
Writer
Berkeley
California
Loses
Found
Home
Novels
Real
Hotel
Longing
York
Novel
Lose

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There was no pleasure like being envied on a mass scale.
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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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You don’t need to marry a man with millions. You only need to be your exquisite self.
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He turned his dark eyes on the girl whom he had dreamed of so often over the previous months. Beside him, at that very moment of existence, at the heart of torrential downpour, she was exquisitely real, and she, too, seemed content to go on sitting there forever.
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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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It's the craziest thing, but I can't stop thinking about you.
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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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She had rarely been near Henry since then, and the sight of him now was like a concentrated dose.
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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 felt so much aware of her own beauty it seemed inconceivable that everybody else wouldn't notice the difference too.
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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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