|
22b33ce
|
This life is what you make it. No matter what, you're going to mess up sometimes, it's a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you're going to mess it up. Girls will be your friends - they'll act like it anyway. But just remember, some come, some go. The ones that stay with you through everything - they're your true best friends. Don't let go of them. Also remember, sisters make the best friends in the world. As for lovers, well, they'll come and go too. And baby, I hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can't give up because if you give up, you'll never find your soulmate. You'll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. Just because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything. Keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don't, then who will, sweetie? So keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life's a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about.
|
|
attributed-no-source
friends
heartbreak
life
love
inspirational
sisters
|
Marilyn Monroe |
|
1dd12b8
|
If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?
|
|
loss
sisters
|
Jodi Picoult |
|
537ced5
|
Sweet, crazy conversations full of half sentences, daydreams and misunderstandings more thrilling than understanding could ever be.
|
|
misunderstandings
insanity
sisters
|
Toni Morrison |
|
a6973ff
|
You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you...
|
|
sisters
|
George R.R. Martin |
|
5b8fdc6
|
May and I are sisters. We'll always fight, but we'll always make up as well. That's what sisters do: we argue, we point out each other's frailties, mistakes, and bad judgment, we flash the insecurities we've had since childhood, and then we come back together. Until the next time.
|
|
sisters
|
Lisa See |
|
2c01436
|
We hug, but there are no tears. For every awful thing that's been said and done, she is my sister. Parents die, daughters grow up and marry out, but sisters are for life. She is the only person left in the world who shares my memories of our childhood, our parents, our Shanghai, our struggles, our sorrows, and, yes, even our moments of happiness and triumph. My sister is the one person who truly knows me, as I know her. The last thing May says to me is 'When our hair is white, we'll still have our sister love.
|
|
sisters
|
Lisa See |
|
3d3be41
|
I have a sister, so I know-that relationship, it's all about fairness: you want your sibling to have exactly what you have-the same amount of toys, the same number of meatballs on your spaghetti, the same share of love. But being a mother is completely different. You want your child to have more than you ever did. You want to build a fire underneath her and watch her soar. It's bigger than words.
|
|
sisters
|
Jodi Picoult |
|
9025c4a
|
"I'm starved." -Juli "How can you be starved? You just ate a huge bowl of popcorn." -Elspeth "Popcorn isn't food, it's popcorn." -Vicki"
|
|
immortals
food
sisters
vampires
|
Lynsay Sands |
|
f015fba
|
"What happened to Tomas Mandray?" I asked, the words strangled. "I realized he wouldn't have gone with me to save you from Prythian."
|
|
nesta
sisters
|
Sarah J. Maas |
|
5d47b0d
|
...she'll go and fall in love, and there's an end of peace and fun, and cozy times together.
|
|
louisa-may-alcott
sisters
|
Louisa May Alcott |
|
f37408f
|
I don't feel the need to explain my actions to her. I don't clarify, I don't doubt, I don't worry. I don't tell her everything, not anymore, but I tell her more than anyone else, by far. I tell her as much as I can.
|
|
family-relationships
trust
family
love
sibling-bond
sibling-relationships
unconditional-love
sister
brothers
siblings
family-love
twins
sisters
loyalty
|
Gillian Flynn |
|
cb8cb0d
|
I was too young that time to value her, But now I know her. If she be a traitor, Why, so am I. We still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together, And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we went coupled and inseparable.
|
|
rosalind
celia
plays
cousins
sisters
|
William Shakespeare |
|
dc48b5c
|
They called each other family and that's what they were--sisters. Many people in the world had family of the heart, kin by choice rather than by blood, and hers had come along in her darkest hour and saved her life.
|
|
heart
sisters
|
Christine Feehan |
|
cf7500e
|
It's always the idle habits you acquire which you will regret. Father said that. That Christ was not crucified: he was worn away by a minute clicking of little wheels. That had no sister.
|
|
regret
sisters
|
William Faulkner |
|
6dbad0c
|
Oak, granite, Lilies by the road, Remember me? I remember you. Clouds brushing Clover hills, Remember me? Sister, child, Grown tall, Remember me? I remember you.
|
|
love
reunion
remember
sisters
|
Gail Carson Levine |
|
20e0ea0
|
"We went our several ways," said Lady Dedlock, "and had little in common even before we agreed to differ. It is to be regretted, I suppose, but it could not be helped."
|
|
family
differ
estranged
sisters
|
Charles Dickens |
|
ba66929
|
"Is this your holiday homework?" asked Sarah. "Don't do it, Rose! And Eve will write you a note to say it's iniquitous to give eight-year-olds homework. You will, won't you, Eve?" "I could never spell 'iniquitous,' Sarah darling!" "Hot concrete," said Rose mournfully, prodding her porridge. "Write this," ordered Saffron. "'The ancient Egyptians are all dead. Their days are very quiet.' Porridge is meant to look like hot concrete. Eat it up.... Read the next question!"... "What would you say if you bumped into Tutankhamen in the street?" "'Sorry!'" said Sarah at once. "Put that." "We have to answer in proper sentences." "'Sorry, but it was your fault! You were walking sideways!"
|
|
homework
morning
sisters
|
Hilary McKay |
|
8441284
|
Jo's face was a study next day, for the secret rather weighed upon her, and she found it hard not to look mysterious and important. Meg observed it, but did not troubled herself to make inquiries, for she had learned that the best way to manage Jo was by the law of contraries, so she felt sure of being told everything if she did not ask.
|
|
secret
law-of-contraries
jo
sisters
|
Louisa May Alcott |
|
b386731
|
For once in your life, listen to your younger sister. She's taller, and she knows better than you
|
|
sisters
|
Stephanie Perkins |
|
cb50b92
|
She knows Daddy better than I do. I think it's because she's felt since we were children that our Daddy maybe loved me more than he loves her. This isn't true, and she knows that now--people love different people in different ways--but it must have seemed that way to her when we were little. I look as though I just can't make it, she looks like can't nothing stop her. If you look helpless, people react to you in one way and if you look strong, or just come on strong, people react to you in another way, and, since you don't see what they see, this can be very painful. I think that's why Sis was always in front of that damn mirror all the time, when we were kids. She was saying, 'I don't care. I got me.' Of course, this only made her come on stronger than ever, which was the last effect she desired: but that's the way we are and that's how we can sometimes get so fucked up. Anyway, she's past all that. She knows who she is, or, at least, she knows who she damn well isn't.
|
|
family-relationships
sisters
|
James Baldwin |
|
2d3fe0d
|
The knowledge of death seemed present in both sisters--it was something about the way they carried themselves, something that had broken too soon and had not mended, marking them in spite of their lightheartedness.
|
|
sisterhood
sisters
|
Jhumpa Lahiri |
|
25297db
|
I need to finish this scarf/shawl/blanket thing so I can start something for Emma- a hat, maybe, or a sweater for her stuffed elephant.
|
|
sisters
|
Laurie Halse Anderson |
|
eb74e27
|
Beach girls now, beach girls tomorrow, beach girls till the end of time.
|
|
love
best-friends
sisters
|
Luanne Rice |
|
8fc4e34
|
When we were that young we invented the world, no one could tell us a thing.
|
|
imagination
friendship
naivety
sisters
|
Audrey Niffenegger |
|
526a031
|
Back to the land of freedom. Back to breaking the law with her sisters to make sure justice got served. God, just the thought had her tingling all over.
|
|
sisterhood
women
sisters
|
Fern Michaels |
|
e52a40e
|
...they who exchange their independence for the sweet name of Wife must be prepared to find all is not gold that glitters... ...Es gibi tatli bir kelime karsiliginda ozgurluklerinden vazgecenler, parlayan her seyin altin olmadigini gormeye hazirlikli olmalidirlar...
|
|
marriage
independence
bunner
evelina
glitters
ramy
exchange
letter
gold
wife
sisters
|
Edith Wharton |
|
438eba8
|
She is the person I ran to when I got my period; the one who helped me knit back together my first broken heart; the hand I would reach for in the middle of the night when I could no longer remember which side our father parted his hair on, or what it sounded like when our mother laughed. No matter what she is now, before all that, she was my built-in best friend.
|
|
sisters
|
Jodi Picoult |
|
cf5d19d
|
"Mere children, ha!" said Jane. "I say we tie up the knave and then discuss his fate." Since everyone thought this a good idea, Batty and Hound donated Jeffrey's neckties, and soon Bug Man, aka Sock or Spock, aka Norman Birnbaum, was bound hand and foot. Jane, Batty, and Hound then took a few minutes to be Aztec priests calling for blood, until Rosalind quieted them down. Norman was slime, but that was no reason to terrify him. Then came a long discussion about what they should do next... Jane's suggestion of throwing Norman into their basement so that he could dwell on his sins was rejected outright."
|
|
sisters
|
Jeanne Birdsall |
|
0047eb4
|
"I lean against my sister's shoulder. "I thought lightning wasn't supposed to strike in the same place twice." "Sure it does," Izzy tells me. "But only if you're too dumb to move." --
|
|
metaphor
relationships
julia-romano
lightning
sisters
|
Jodi Picoult |
|
6096904
|
"I don't care," Nevada said. "I want blue lilacs." And I want to fly away from here, but that wouldn't happen anytime soon, would it? "Anyway, I have to get back to the office," Nevada said. "Text me if anything." "The queen has dismissed us," Arabella announced. I dropped into a deep curtsy. "Your Majesty." "I hate you guys." "We hate you back," Arabella told her. "We hated you before the wedding." "Before it was cool to hate you." "Get out!" Nevada growled."
|
|
nevada-baylor
wedding
sisters
|
Ilona Andrews |
|
6ad570a
|
I look for my sister but it's hopeless. The goggles are all fogged up. Every fish burns lantern-bright, and I can't tell the living from the dead. It's all just blurry light, light smeared like some celestial fingerprint all over the rocks and the reef and the sunken garbage. Olivia could be everywhere.
|
|
loss
sisters
|
Karen Russell |
|
2d00161
|
As to the other three, if they had been perfection they would not have been real girls, and you could not have wept over their trials and laughed over their pleasures.
|
|
tears
sisters
|
Louisa May Alcott |
|
587c23d
|
Arabella did not need backup. Most of the time she was the backup, the field artillery, and the air support, but Nevada taught me to always have an exit strategy.
|
|
sisters
|
Ilona Andrews |
|
1e712a5
|
The two had been together since they were little girls, and so loved and hated each other like sisters.
|
|
venice
sisters
|
Christopher Moore |
|
5faf61c
|
Oh, my love,' she said. 'What do the only children do?' 'We'll never have to know.
|
|
sisterhood
sisters
|
Ann Patchett |
|
b57f239
|
A chuckle escaped Meredith's lips as Cassie swung from sleepy little girl to sympathetic confidante to vengeful angel all in the course of a single minute.
|
|
humor
sisters
|
Karen Witemeyer |
|
e2bd5e0
|
The two sisters were connected by neither love nor mutual affinity but by a very small bathroom that could be entered from the bedroom on either side.
|
|
sisters
|
Ann Patchett |
|
13ffec0
|
I do love it when I am right,' Hyacinth said triumphantly. 'Which is fortunate, since I so often am.
|
|
being-right
sisters
|
Julia Quinn |
|
ba95ce0
|
In The Garret Four little chests all in a row, Dim with dust, and worn by time, All fashioned and filled, long ago, By children now in their prime. Four little keys hung side by side, With faded ribbons, brave and gay When fastened there, with childish pride, Long ago, on a rainy day. Four little names, one on each lid, Carved out by a boyish hand, And underneath there lieth hid Histories of the happy band Once playing here, and pausing oft To hear the sweet refrain, That came and went on the roof aloft, In the falling summer rain. 'Meg' on the first lid, smooth and fair. I look in with loving eyes, For folded here, with well-known care, A goodly gathering lies, The record of a peaceful life-- Gifts to gentle child and girl, A bridal gown, lines to a wife, A tiny shoe, a baby curl. No toys in this first chest remain, For all are carried away, In their old age, to join again In another small Meg's play. Ah, happy mother! Well I know You hear, like a sweet refrain, Lullabies ever soft and low In the falling summer rain. 'Jo' on the next lid, scratched and worn, And within a motley store Of headless dolls, of schoolbooks torn, Birds and beasts that speak no more, Spoils brought home from the fairy ground Only trod by youthful feet, Dreams of a future never found, Memories of a past still sweet, Half-writ poems, stories wild, April letters, warm and cold, Diaries of a wilful child, Hints of a woman early old, A woman in a lonely home, Hearing, like a sad refrain-- 'Be worthy, love, and love will come,' In the falling summer rain. My Beth! the dust is always swept From the lid that bears your name, As if by loving eyes that wept, By careful hands that often came. Death canonized for us one saint, Ever less human than divine, And still we lay, with tender plaint, Relics in this household shrine-- The silver bell, so seldom rung, The little cap which last she wore, The fair, dead Catherine that hung By angels borne above her door. The songs she sang, without lament, In her prison-house of pain, Forever are they sweetly blent With the falling summer rain. Upon the last lid's polished field-- Legend now both fair and true A gallant knight bears on his shield, 'Amy' in letters gold and blue. Within lie snoods that bound her hair, Slippers that have danced their last, Faded flowers laid by with care, Fans whose airy toils are past, Gay valentines, all ardent flames, Trifles that have borne their part In girlish hopes and fears and shames, The record of a maiden heart Now learning fairer, truer spells, Hearing, like a blithe refrain, The silver sound of bridal bells In the falling summer rain. Four little chests all in a row, Dim with dust, and worn by time, Four women, taught by weal and woe To love and labor in their prime. Four sisters, parted for an hour, None lost, one only gone before, Made by love's immortal power, Nearest and dearest evermore. Oh, when these hidden stores of ours Lie open to the Father's sight, May they be rich in golden hours, Deeds that show fairer for the light, Lives whose brave music long shall ring, Like a spirit-stirring strain, Souls that shall gladly soar and sing In the long sunshine after rain
|
|
touching
sisters
|
Louisa May Alcott |
|
dc8fe7e
|
Stuff happens to most people. One thing going wrong, I mean. One family member missing a chance to help. One who cuts you off. One person with her own shit to deal with. One of those things isn't enough to send you falling through the cracks. But all of them together, they accumulate. An abandoned mother here. A missing uncle there. A disappearing father 2 generations back. A friendship broken by fear or mistrust or addiction. Genes that make you vulnerable to certain problems. Two children who aren't loved right meeting up when they're not really adults yet and having 2 more children who aren't loved right. It adds up. It all adds up.
|
|
sisters
|
Sara Zarr |
|
42e5035
|
"We had this time. We had this little bit of time together for being honest. It felt sharp and finite, like it could end any second without warning. "I know you want me to be different than I am," I said. "But you could have helped me be more of what you wanted by actually talking to me. Telling me things."
|
|
sisters
|
Sara Zarr |
|
5244548
|
They seem like a different race to me and I make sure never to get into disagreements with them, because any puny thing I say gets dashed on the rocks of their robust, shouty certainty.
|
|
sisterhood
pushy
opinionated
timid
sisters
|
Marian Keyes |
|
9fd2c05
|
"If Molly had not been so entirely loyal to her friend, she might have thought this constant brilliancy a little tiresome when brought into every-day life; it was not the sunshiny rest of a placid lake, it was
|
|
sadness
enriched
faking
lake
magical
mirrors
sunshine
well-written
sisters
loyalty
|
Elizabeth Gaskell |
|
a2c0481
|
There is a rustle of dead leaves. Dried sap, a branch crack, the whirring teeth of Mr. Omaru's saw. My father--my real father--is a limb that got axed off the family tree a long time ago now. My mother coughs and cleans phantom juices off her silver with a cloth doily. My sisters clench their knives.
|
|
fathers
family
sisters
|
Karen Russell |
|
a9f84fe
|
"I'm not going anywhere," she told me that night. But until we are old ladies--a cypress age, a Sawtooth age--I will continue to link arms with her, in public, in private, in a panic of love."
|
|
loneliness
loss
love
sisters
|
Karen Russell |
|
deb15fd
|
For a moment we glared at each other, stubborn as cats on the stable wall, full of mutual resentment and something darker, the old sense between sisters that there is only really room in the world for one girl. The sense that every fight could be to the death.
|
|
resentment
siblings
sisters
|
Philippa Gregory |
|
9378747
|
They shared a look, and Tess felt a wave of emotion. How quickly she'd found an affinity with Isabel, a woman so unlike her, they might have been from different species. Only a short time ago they had been strangers. Now she couldn't imagine not knowing Isabel, her guileless and fragile sister. They shared a birthday, they shared their father's DNA, but the bond now ran deeper than that; it ran as deep as blood and secrets.
|
|
tess-and-isabel
sisters
|
Susan Wiggs |
|
8f0cf2e
|
You've finally written it? That's great! She asked me if I'd read to her from it and I said no. Just a paragraph? No. A sentence? No. Half a sentence! One word? No. A letter? I said okay, that I would read the first letter of the novel. She smiled and closed her eyes and sort of burrowed into her bed like she was preparing herself for a delicious treat. I asked her if she was ready and she nodded, still smiling, eyes closed. I stood and cleared my throat and paused and then began to read. L. She sighed and lifted her chin to the ceiling, opened her eyes and told me it was beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, and true, the best thing I'd written yet.
|
|
writing
sharing
sisters
|
Miriam Toews |
|
746bfff
|
My mother and I were on a plane. Before we left I talked with Elf. She didn't talk at all. I told her things would be okay, truly, that I needed her, that I understood her, that I loved her, that I'd miss her, that I'd be back for her, that being together in Toronto for a while would be amazing, that Nora was really looking forward to it too, that I understood that just because she didn't want to live didn't mean that she necessarily wanted to die it's just that that's sort of how that one goes, that she wanted to die the way she'd lived, with grace and dignity, that I needed her to be patient, to fight a little longer, to hold on, to know she was loved, to know I wanted to help her, that I would help her, that I needed to do some stuff, that mom and I had to go to Aunt Tina's funeral in Vancouver, that I'd be back, that she'd stay with me in Toronto for a while, a total break, that Nic was here now, back in Winnipeg, that he'd see her every day, that I had to go, that I had to know she'd be okay while I was gone, that I would bow down before her suffering with compassion, that she could control her life, that I understood that pain is sometimes psychic, not only physical, that she wanted nothing more than to end it and to sleep forever, that for her life was over but that for me it was still ongoing and that an aspect of it was trying to save her, that the notion of saving her was one that we didn't agree on, that I was willing to do whatever she wanted me to do but only if it was absolutely true that there were no other doors to find, to push against or storm because if there were I'd break every bone in my body running up against that fucking door repeatedly, over and over and over and over.
|
|
grief
sadness
sisters
|
Miriam Toews |
|
94e7cc6
|
"She designed the cakes and I worked out the recipes. The first year we each created a signature cake. Genie's was called the Goddess: really tall, all white on the outside, wrapped in mountains of coconut and whipped cream, with a passion-fruit heart." "And yours was called the Shrinking Violet. Unassuming on the outside but pretty special once you worked your way in." She reached over and squeezed my wrist. "Wish I'd thought of that. You'd understand if you knew my sister." By now I was a little drunk. "One year Genie came up with Melting Cakes. You know, like flourless chocolate, the kind that are melted in the middle? They were gorgeous neon colors, and I made the flavors intense- blood orange, blueberry, lime, hibiscus, and caramel."
|
|
billie-breslin
genie-breslin
cake
flavors
sisters
|
Ruth Reichl |
|
41dbb9c
|
Once the apartment was ready, Portia had begun to plan out what foods they would showcase in this little glimpse into a Glass Kitchen world. Her sisters couldn't help her with this part. Portia had let go, and dishes had come to her, all of which she wrote down and prepared to make. Then, at eight that morning, she got to work. Olivia and Cordelia served as sous-chefs; they started by making a decadent beef bourguignon. Olivia and Cordelia washed and chopped as Portia browned layer after layer of beef, bacon, carrots, and onion, folding in the beef stock and wine, then putting it in to slow bake as they dove into the remaining dishes. They opened all the windows and ran four swiveling fans Portia had bought and found that pushed the scent of the baking and cooking out onto the sidewalk. Then they had put up a fairly discreet sign in the window, hand-painted by Olivia: THE GLASS KITCHEN. Portia had gotten the idea while walking down Broadway and passing the French soap store. Scents had spilled into the street from the shop- lavender and primrose, musk and sandalwood- luring passersby inside. Portia had realized that the best way to get investors interested was to show them a version of The Glass Kitchen. The food. The aromas. She had realized, standing there on Broadway, that she needed to create a mini version of her grandmother's restaurant to lure people in.
|
|
glass-kitchen
foods
portia-cuthcart
scents
ingredients
sisters
|
Linda Francis Lee |
|
fb05fb9
|
"You're a throwback." "To what?" Jess considered this. Hi-tech at work, Emily was paradoxically old-fashioned in her life. She didn't even own a television. "The nineteenth century," Jess concluded. "No. Eighteenth. You can be eighteenth. I'll be nineteenth." "I never pictured you as a Victorian." "No, early nineteenth century," said Jess, who had always been a stickler when it came to imaginary games and books. The Blue Fairy, not Tinker Bell. Lucy, not Susan. Jo, not Amy. Austen, not the Brontes."
|
|
what-are-you
emily-and-jess
centurion
sisters
|
Allegra Goodman |
|
1bf7c9b
|
The sisters' voices were almost identical, laughing mezzos tuned in childhood to the same pitch and timbre. To the ear, they were twins; to the eye, nothing alike. Emily was tall and slender with her hair cropped short. She wore a pinstriped suit, elegant slacks, tiny, expensive glasses. She was an MBA, not a programmer, and it showed. Magnified by her glasses, her hazel eyes were clever, guarded, and also extremely beautiful. Her features were delicate, her fingers long and tapered. She scarcely allowed her back to touch her chair, while Jess curled up with her legs tucked under her. Jess was small and whimsical. Her face and mouth were wider than Emily's, her cheeks rounder, her eyes greener and more generous. She had more of the sun and sea in her, more freckles, more gold in her brown hair. She would smile at anyone, and laugh and joke and sing. She wore jeans and sweaters from Mars Mercantile, and her hair... who knew when she'd cut it last?
|
|
emily-and-jess
jess-bach
emily-bach
sisters
|
Allegra Goodman |
|
cf26eeb
|
You married into the family. You have to love me. It's a contractual obligation.
|
|
in-laws
sisters
|
Julia Quinn |
|
b64f5ed
|
If Olivia was like a decadent chocolate-covered strawberry, and Portia a pineapple-and-spice hummingbird cupcake, then Cordelia was peanut butter brittle, still sweet, though with something more substantial added by way of peanuts, but unbendable.
|
|
sisters
|
Linda Francis Lee |
|
d0f4f55
|
"I would be over the moon if you'd make me one of your famous apple cakes." Portia stared at the ingredients her sister had lined up with perfect precision on the scratched countertop. Apples. Butter. Brown sugar. Cordelia cocked her head. "What is it?" "Nothing," Portia said, her voice weak. "It's just that I'm not in the mood to bake, is all." That was a lie. Her fingers itched to dive in, peel, and core, sift the flour, fold in the softened butter and brown sugar. Again and again since moving into the apartment she'd had to ignore her tingling fingertips and the smells of chocolate and vanilla that didn't really exist. She had thrown every bit of food in the apartment away, and it still hadn't helped. "I don't believe you," Cordelia said. "You want to bake like nobody's business. I can see it in your eyes."
|
|
apples
baking
portia-cuthcart
ingredients
sisters
|
Linda Francis Lee |
|
3ae9105
|
I couldn't see beyond the walls of our apartment or the few miles between home and school. Every day was about getting through it. Every weekend was about getting back to school, where there could be some structure and my routines.
|
|
sisters
|
Sara Zarr |
|
0f28dc6
|
Kip is still one of my best friends. When you have a shared experience with someone who showed you some kindness when you needed it most, it sticks with you.
|
|
sisters
|
Sara Zarr |