You teach your 16-year-old with your heart in your mouth to be a good driver and none of that makes any difference… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
It is this that, finally, I will try to teach my sons about sex, after I've explained fertile periods and birth control… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
London has the trick of making its past, its long indelible past, always a part of its present. And for that reason… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
At the same time that you've got to open yourself up to the fact that experience is going to teach you year… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement. It would be wonderful… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
I think books in which people are really happy and things are going well are probably the most challenging novels there are to write,… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
Trying to be perfect may be inevitable for people who are smart and ambitious and interested in the world and its good opinion...What is… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
Sometimes change came all at once, with a sound like a fire taking hold of dry wood and paper, with a roar that rose… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
knowledge of our own mortality is the greatest gift God ever gives us. — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
You teach your 16-year-old with your heart in your mouth to be a good driver and none of that makes any difference when some… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
Every reader, I suspect, has a book like this somewhere in his or her past, a book that seemed to hold within it, at… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
“I’ve finally recognized my body for what it is: a personality-delivery system, designed expressly to carry my character from place to place, now and… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
“In England I am always madam; I arrived too late to ever be a miss. In New York I have only been madamed once,… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
“Yet there was always in me, even when I was very small, the sense that I ought to be somewhere else. And wander I… — Anna Quindlen Copy Share Image
