30 Quotes About Anna

Hopefully, you’re in the mood for some good old-fashioned wisdom this holiday season. If so, then you should scroll down to read what people have to say about the meaning of friendship. There are quite a few wise quotes about friendship in this post, but here are our favorites:

He said that we belonged together because he was born...
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He said that we belonged together because he was born with a flower and I was born with a butterfly and that flowers and butterflies need each other for survival. Gemma Malley
Because no one needs to live for ever. I think...
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Because no one needs to live for ever. I think that sometimes you can outstay your welcome. Gemma Malley
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French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused. Stephanie Perkins
Soap?
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Soap?""School of America in Paris" he explains. "SOAP".Nice. My father sent me here to be cleansed. Stephanie Perkins
St. Clair clears his throat. 'My fiancée and I are...
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St. Clair clears his throat. 'My fiancée and I are headed out for a celebratory dessert. I'd ask you all to join us, but I don't want you there. Stephanie Perkins
Har. Bloody. Har.
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Har. Bloody. Har. Stephanie Perkins
Patti told me that to truly love someone, you must...
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Patti told me that to truly love someone, you must hold them in an open hand. That was how I needed to love Kai. It was necessary to uncurl my fingers and let him go. Wendy Higgins
Clearly God was in some kind of mood on my...
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Clearly God was in some kind of mood on my birthday. Jodi Picoult
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I love you Anna Covey, ' he said, his voice barely audible. And slowly, clumsily, he leant forward, and his lips found hers, and Anna felt him kiss her awkwardly, she knew that she wasn't a Surplus any more. And nor was Peter. Gemma Malley
Surplus meant unnecessary. Not required. You couldn’t be a Surplus...
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Surplus meant unnecessary. Not required. You couldn’t be a Surplus if you were needed by someone else. You couldn’t be a Surplus if you were loved. Gemma Malley
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Girls, on the other hand, have always come easy. I don't know why that is, exactly. Maybe it's the outsider vibe and a well-placed brooding look. Maybe it's something I think I see sometimes in the mirror, something that reminds me of my father. Or maybe I'm just damn easy on the eyes. Kendare Blake
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Actually, I came because I have a last-minute invitation. My friend Erika Gill is having a big party tomorrow night, one of those all-out birthday bashes that girls like. Want to go?"----------------------------------------" No. Sorry.""Since it's a catered thing, at a restaurant, I'll pick you up at- what did you say?"" I'm sorry. I can't do it."----------------------------------------" You're busy?"" I just can't do it, " I said. Elizabeth Chandler
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Art is bad when ‘you see the intent and get put off.’ (Goethe) In Tolstoy one is unaware of the intent, and sees only the thing itself. from the book, On Retranslating A Russian Classic Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy Joel Carmichael
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Being in love with your best friend is problematic. J.M. Richards
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As much as I cared about him, I wasn’t a slave to fate. I could choose to ignore my feelings, strong as they were. It would be painful, but no more so than letting myself pine for my friend. J.M. Richards
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There were dozens of theories about what it was, that dome. Every scientist in the world, it seemed, had made a pilgrimage to the site. Tests had been conducted, measurements taken. They had tried drilling through it. Under it. Had flown over it. Had dug beneath it. Had approached it by submarine. Nothing worked. Every species of doomsayer from Luddite to End Times nut had had his say. It was a judgment. On America’s technological obsession, on America’s moral failure. This. That. Something else. Then the twins had popped out. Just like that. First Emma. Then, a few minutes later, Anna. Alive and well at the exact moment of their fifteenth birthday. They told tales of life inside the bowl. What they called the FAYZ.Connie Temple’s heart had swelled with pride for what she had learned of her son, Sam. And crashed into despair with tales of her other son, her unacknowledged child, Caine.Then, nothing. No other kids arrived for a while. Black despair settled over the families as they realized that it would be only these two. Months passed. Many lost faith. How could kids survive alone? But then, the Prophetess had reached into their dreams. One night Connie Temple had a lurid, incredible dream. She’d never had such a detailed dream. It was terrifying. The power of it took her breath away. There was a girl in that . Michael Grant
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Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed intooure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daugh-ters of. Whawk? Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flitter-ing bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome? What Thom Malone? Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffey-ing waters of. Ho, talk save us! My foos won't moos. I feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All Livia's daughter-sons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who were Shem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night! . James Joyce
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Who hurt you?" she asked, slicing through the two other conversations going on at the table. "He's dead, " said Charles, his hand sliding up Anna's back reassuringly. "I killed him. If I could, I would bring him back to life so I could kill him again. Patricia Briggs
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Sorry.” I’m surprised and glad she doesn’t recognize it. I run my thumb back and forth over a crusty bit on the shoulder strap as a five-second version of the cake fight flashes behind my eyes like a movie stuck on quick search. Don’t cry over spilt frosting, Anna. “I just — I like this one.” “What for?” she asks. Just tell her. “It’s from the — it’s just the—” I bite my lower lip. Tell her. “Anna? What’s wrong?” Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just that it’s from the first time your brother kissed me and made me promise not to tell you. And I was in love with him forever, and he was supposed to tell you about it in California, and we were all going to live happily ever after. I still write him letters in the journal he gave me, which he doesn’t answer, since he’s dead and all. But other than that? Honestly, it’s nothing. “Anna?” She watches me with her sideways face again. “Huh? Oh, sorry. Nothing. I’m fine. I — I’ll get rid of it later. Sarah Ockler
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When a woman who has much to say says nothing, her silence can be deafening. Margaret Landon
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...you definitely are deep water Dr. Fisher. Fathoms deep. J.M. Richards
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We didn't have to talk, and it wasn't awkward. We were just two lonely, out of place people sharing a holiday with junk food from the vending machine and a Claymation classic on the television." oh and later "I guess its a good thing we found each other then. Unknown
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He’s a vampire.” I laughed again, feeling there was no end to the outrageous, ridiculous excuses we were coming up with. “Seriously, it makes sense. He’s always tired and pale, and keeps himself away from people so he won’t bite them.... Maybe that’s what he’s doing when he disappears. Getting his fix of blood. J.M. Richards
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Happy birthday, ” he whispered, his breath landing warm and suddenly close to my lips, making my insides flip. And just as quickly as he’d surprised me with the cake, he kissed me, one frosting-covered hand moving from my hair to the back of my neck, the other solid and warm in the small of my back, pressing us together, my chest against his ribs, my hip bones just below his, the tops of our bare summer legs hot and touching. I stopped breathing. My eyes were closed and his mouth tasted like marzipan flowers and clove cigarettes, and in ten seconds the whole of my life was wrapped up in that one kiss, that one wish, that one secret that would forever divide my life into two parts. Up, down. Happy, sad. Shock, awe. Before, after. In that single moment, Matt, formerly known as friend, became something else entirely. I kissed him back. I forgot time. I forgot my feet. I forgot the people outside, waiting for us to rejoin the party. I forgot what happens when friends cross into this space. And if my lungs didn’t fill and my heart didn’t beat and my blood didn’t pump without my intervention, I would have forgotten about them, too. I could have stayed like that all night, standing in front of the sink, Matt’s black apple hair brushing my cheeks, heart thumping, lucky and forgetful…. Sarah Ockler
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If they hadn’t both been pretending, but had had what is called a heart-to-heart talk, that is, simply told each other just what they were thinking and feeling, then they would just have looked into each other’s eyes, and Constantine would only have said: ‘You’re dying, dying, dying! ’ — while Nicholas would simply have replied: ‘I know I’m dying, but I’m afraid, afraid, afraid! ’ That’s all they would have said if they’d been talking straight from the heart. But it was impossible to live that way, so Levin tried to do what he’d been trying to do all his life without being able to, what a great many people could do so well, as he observed, and without which life was impossible: he tried to say something different from what he thought, and he always felt it came out false, that his brother caught him out and was irritated by it. Leo Tolstoy
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Anna and Emma just poofed.”“ What?”“ I was standing there. I was watching them. I was holding Anna’s hand when it happened.” Astrid rose and without really thinking about it wrapped her arms around Sam like she did when she was trying to comfort Little Pete.But unlike Little Pete, Sam responded to her touch by awkwardly hugging her back. For a moment his face was in her hair and she heard his ragged breathing close to her ear. And it seemed like they might do it again, the kissing thing, but then, both at once, they pushed away.“ She was scared, ” Sam said. “Anna, I mean. She saw Emma disappear. They were born just six minutes apart. So, first Emma. Then Anna, waiting for it. Knowing it was coming. Michael Grant
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What’s up, Sam?”“What birthday?” he panted.“ What?”“ What birthday, Anna?”It took a while for her to absorb his fear. It took a while for the reason for his fear to dawn on her.“ Fifteen, ” Anna said in a whisper.“ What’s the matter?” Emma asked, sensing her twin’s mood. “It doesn’t mean anything.”“ It doesn’t, ” Anna whispered.“ You’re probably right, ” Sam said.“ Oh, my God, ” Anna said. “Are we going to disappear?”“ When were you born?” Sam asked. “What time of day?” The twins exchanged scared looks. “We don’t know.”“ You know what, no one has blinked out since that first day, so it’s probably–” Emma disappeared. Anna screamed. The other older kids took notice, the littles, too.“ Oh, my God! ” Anna cried. “Emma. Emma. Oh, God! ”She grabbed Sam’s hands and he held her tight. The prees, some of them, caught the fear. Mother Mary came over. “What’s going on? You’re scaring the kids. Where’s Emma?”Anna just kept saying, “Oh, my God, ” and calling her sister’s name.“ Where’s Emma?” Mary demanded again. “What’s going on?” Sam didn’t want to explain. Anna was hurting him with the pressure of her fingers digging into the backs of his hands. Anna’s eyes were huge, staring holes in him.“ How far apart were you born?” Sam asked. Anna just stared in blank horror. Sam lowered his voice to an urgent whisper. “How far apart were you born, Anna?”“Six minutes, ” she whispered.“ Hold my hands, Sam, ” she said.“ Don’t let me go, Sam, ” she said.“ I won’t, Anna, I won’t let you go, ” Sam said.“ What’s going to happen, Sam?”“I don’t know, Anna.”“Will we go to where our mom and dad are?”“ I don’t know, Anna."“Am I going to die?”“ No, Anna. You’re not going to die.”“ Don’t let go of me, Sam.”Mary was there now, a baby on her hip. John was there. The prees, some of them, watched with serious, worried looks on their faces.“ I don’t want to die, ” Anna repeated. “I…I don’t know what it’s like.”“ It’s okay, Anna.”Anna smiled. “That was a nice date. When we went out.”“ It was.” For a split second it was like Anna blurred. Too fast to be real. She blurred, and Sam could almost swear that she had smiled at him. And his fingers squeezed on nothing. For a terribly long time no one moved or said anything. The littles didn’t cry out. The older kids just stared. Sam’s fingertips still remembered the feel of Anna’s hands. He stared at the place where her face had been. He could still see her pleading eyes. Unable to stop himself, he reached a hand into the space she had occupied. Reaching for a face that was no longer there. Someone sobbed. Someone cried out, other voices then, the prees started crying. Sam felt sick. When his teacher had disappeared he hadn’t been expecting it. This time he had seen it coming, like a monster in a slow-motion nightmare. This time he had seen it coming, like standing rooted on the railroad tracks, unable to jump aside. Michael Grant
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I don't believe that." She seems like suck a force, this reasonable girl who kills with a turn of her fingers. She would have left all this behind, if she had the chance. "I honestly don't remember, " she sighs "I don't think I was strong in life. Now it seems like I loved every moment, that every breath was charmed and crisp." she clasps her hands comically to her chest and breaths in deep through her nose, then blows it out in a huff. "I probably didn't. For all my dreams and fancies, I can't recall being..what would you call it? Perky? . Kendare Blake
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Anna, you miss him.” “All the time. I still can’t believe he’s gone.” The words come out in a whoosh, tasting funny in my mouth. No matter how many times I say them, they still feel like a garbled, impossible language. My chest hurts, and I have to hold my breath to keep from inhaling a deep sob. “He was more than your best friend.” I nod absently, forgetting myself for a moment, forgetting that I’m talking to Jayne and not my journal. “I — I mean, he was like a brother to me. You know, like Frankie. Well, she’s the sister. I mean—” Jayne reaches for my hands across the table, shaking her head softly. “Sweetheart, when you say Matt’s name, you have the same look in your eyes that he’d get whenever he’d say yours. . Sarah Ockler