Anna Godbersen Quotes

Gossip is just a tool to distract people who have nothing better to do from feeling jealous of those few of us still remaining with noble hearts.

The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color - oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples.

She should have know that villains often come with pretty faces.

It is a truth universally acknowledge that there will always be a gentleman to dance with, except at just the moment when you require one most.

So this was betrayal. It was like being left alone in the desert at dusk without water or warmth. It left your mouth dry and will broken. It sapped your tears and made you hollow.

You don’t need to marry a man with millions. You only need to be your exquisite self.

It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer.

She was full of some strange energy that morning. Her every movement had purpose and life and she seemed to find satisfaction in every little thing.

Heart-stopping envy is the sincerest form of flattery.

I've always believed in savoring the moments. In the end, they are the only things we'll have.

It's the craziest thing, but I can't stop thinking about you.

He was a mystery to her, and every time she tried to solve him it caused her a little more pain. But when she tired to give him up he pursued her in her thoughts, stronger each time.

There was no pleasure like being envied on a mass scale.

All really interesting girls invent themselves.

As she always did on any really important day, Penelope Hayes wore red.

Living too much in one's head can be dangerous.

That is what I want to tell you about: the girls with their short skirts and bright eyes and big-city dreams. The girls of 1929.

Her life, she realized, had all the charm of a steel trap.

They will stop calling brides beautiful after today—you have simply set the standard too high,' he said.

To look in the face of hard things and keep moving forward - that's what one has to do.

What was it about that short creature with her wild hair and spurious air of purity and why would anyone much less two men love her and to such disastrous ends.

Things only looked wrong when there was someone to see you.

The living are made of nothing but flaws. The dead, with each passing day in the afterlife, become more and more impeccable to those who remain earthbound.

It is a fact of big cities that one girl's darkest how is always another's moment of shining triumph, and New York is the biggest and cruelest city of them all.

In New York there is always something to look at, but it is all infinitely more interesting through a window in the backseat of a limousine.

Instead, he sat in the parlor of his family's Fifth Avenue mansion, growing older by the minute just like everybody else.

Diana knew it wouldn't be right, but then she told herself that things only looked wrong when there was someone to see you.

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.

It is well known that a man, when wooing a lady to be his wife, must first win over the females she most confides in—her friends, of course, and her sister, if she has one.

The value of secrets is ever fluctuating although ladies who have been in society for a long time learn that a secret kept can be worth more than a secret told.

Already she could feel the stunning weight of a lifetime of regret for letting him go, and she knew that it was enought to bury her alive.

Diana felt she was beginning to understand why, in all those novels she read, the headiest loves were the loves that couldn't be.

Even when a girl is married she still never completely leaves her mother and father's home.

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.

She felt so much aware of her own beauty it seemed inconceivable that everybody else wouldn't notice the difference too.

A man is made in the rough-and-tumble of the world a lady emerges from the flossy back rooms of her own imagination.

They were all dressed in their finest as though life really were some magical stage play in which every moment ought to be illuminated with its own bright spotlight.

Always stay sharp on railways and cruise ships for transit has a way of making everything clear.

She had rarely been near Henry since then, and the sight of him now was like a concentrated dose.

She was trying to sound tough and impatient, but she knew that vulnerable desire to be wooed was still brimming in her tone.

Love is all right, as things go, but lovers can be a terrible waste of a girl's time.

Though her emotions had not deviated from a jittery frailty she knew that in her own room she could at least attempt sleep and that if she dreamed she might then finally be with Henry.

Life was a short window and there was no sense in doing the wrong thing over and over even if it was so difficult to stop.

Henry was thinking of the younger Holland sister of the way she could go from being an impetuous girl to a knowing woman in a few seconds and never lose the stars in her eyes.

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.

I can't imagine what my life was before. I can't imagine ever being without you for very long again.

She considered herself unconventional.

That was the way love was, she guessed-it left you always unsteady on your feet.

She had had no idea what it would do to her seeing him in a suit.

It seemed to her as though everything that was good and true had been blasted out of the world. All those things had been crushed destroyed made to disappear.