The weather turned. Her skin seemed to grow a million extra pores, and all of them opened to take in the warmth… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Healing wasn’t always the best thing. Sometimes a hole was better left open. Sometimes it healed too thick and too well and… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
How sad it was, Carmen thought, that you acted awful when you were desperately sad and hurt and wanted to be loved.… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
She had willed her heart to stay small and contained, but it wouldn’t be. Oh, well. — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
There was one thing Bridget like about guys. They took insults well. — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
Try, reach, want, and you may fall. But even if you do, you might be okay anyway. If you don't try, you… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
And I thought about the color and I realized what blue it was. It was the soft and changeable, essential blue of… — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
She couldn’t hide from everyone for the rest of her life… Well she could. That was the direction things were going. But… — 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
