For some reason our lives were marked by summers. . . . Summer was the time when our lives joined completely, when… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“The summers before that are a blur of baby oil and Sun-In and hating our bodies (I got big breasts; Tibby got… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
But then she hadn’t just learned to love this summer – she had also learned how to need. — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
The rules took a while to sort out. Lena and Carmen wanted to focus on friendship-type rules, stuff about keeping in touch… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“Because the truth wouldn't be comforting and wouldn't bring them closer again.” — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“¿Iban a sumirla en la tristeza antes de hacerla feliz? No, por favor.” — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“When she made her way to the big picture window that framed the dining room table she froze. She stopped breathing. The anger was… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“Lena remembered herself in all the old familiar things they said. She existed in her friends; there she was. All the parts of herself… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“but it was hard to give the real world much notice when he was this close.” — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“You don't have time, Len. That is the most bitter and the most beautiful piece of advice I can offer. If you don't have… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Gestating characters feels something like the mental equivalent of gestating a baby. In both cases, to create them you lose yourself. Or at least… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
The weather turned. Her skin seemed to grow a million extra pores, and all of them opened to take in the warmth and tenderness… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
