Emily Giffin Quotes

I have a fleeting fantasy of telling her that procreation isn't a contest, any more than SAT scores and making the cheerleading squad and getting into a good college and all the other things, both big and small, that she turned into a contest when Janie and I were young, going all the way back to whose baby teeth came in first, according to my mother.

I'll remind you of that someday , Maura says. when you're married to a man who once looked into your eyes and promised to forsake all others. I'll remind of that after you've just had his baby and you have postpartum depression and feel as fat as cow and you are pumping milk into a plastic containers in the middle of the night while he's running around with some twenty-two-years old named Lissette. I'll remind you of that.
Maura to Jess.

Nothing about my life is lucky - it's all about hard work, it is all an uphill struggle.

It occurs to me that as different as we are in our behavior and decisions, our most basic, knee-jerk emotional reactions to really big things are often remarkably similar. And it is in these moments that I am most grateful for my sister.

I think of how each person in a marriage owes it to the other to find individual happiness, even in a shared life. That this is the only way to grow together, instead of apart.

I wondered why I was so startled by the encounter when there was something that seemed utterly inevitable about the moment. Not in any grand, destined sense; just in the quiet, stubborn way that unfinished business has of imposing its will on the unwilling.

We are in love and meant to be together.

You'll never regret being a good friend.

Reckless abandon and know that there will be someone

She knows in her heart that it doesn't work like this. That misfortune doesn't give you the right to disregard others, ignore the rules, tell lies and half-truths.

My name is Kirby Rose, and I'm adopted. I don't mean to make it sound like an AA confession, although sometimes that's how people take it, like it's something they should be supportive about. I just mean that they are two basic facts about me.

Where we belong is often where we least expect to find ourselves - a place that we may have willed ourselves to forget, but that the heart remembers forever.

There is emotion, and then there is what you do about it.

I think it's important to try to be present with whatever it is you're doing. And if you can't be present, take a break.

The surprise element of her betrayal was what burned me the most. The fact that I never saw it coming.

Throughout the ordeal, I learned that getting mad was easier than being sad. Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame and hate. Focus my energy on something than the ache in my heart.

Did I ever stop loving him the way you're supposed to stop loving everyone but the one you're with?

It's heartbreaking when you love a book that fails. And it always
seems to happen to the nicest authors.

ONE MORE CHNCE. Words that my mother heard, more than once. Words that women debate. Whether you CAN forgive and whether you SHOULD trust. I think of all the judgment from society, friends, and family, the overwhelming consensus seeming to be that you should not grant someone who betrayed you a second chance. That you should do everything you can to keep the knife out of your back, and to protect your heart and pride. Cowards give second chances. Fools give second chances. And I am no coward, no fool.

I looked at my friend, overwhelmed with confusion. Unsure of what April should do. What I should do. What a strong woman would do. In fact, the only thing that I am certain of is that there are no easy answers, and that anyone who says there are has never been in our shoes.

What's the point of being sad?" he says. "We're here now.

Maybe the thing to do after you roll the dice-and lose-is simply pick them up and roll them again.

My work has often been described as "chick lit" and for the most part the term doesn't bother me. I think it simply signals to readers that the book is about women, written for women (although many men enjoy my books), about issues that concern women (relationships, careers, etc.) The only thing that bothers me is when the label is used disparagingly, to imply that all chick lit is, by definition, superficial, beach-read fluff because I believe that this is akin to saying that all women are devoid of substance and the issues that concern us, are fundamentally trivial ones. And I take issue with that.

People generally didn't cheat in good relationships.

What every girl dreams of when she's dumped is - that the guy will someday feel regrest and come back and tell her all about it. And the beauty of it is you have no regrets whatsoever.

I certainly never felt rejected because they had given me up. My parents knew nothing about my birth mother, yet always explained with certainty that she didn't "give me up" or "give me away" - she made a plan for me, the best one she could make under her circumstances, whatever those were.

Being around people didn't make me uneasy, I just preferred to be alone most of the time.

Often I feel that projects overwhelm us when we look at how many hours are involved until completion. But just getting started is usually not that difficult.

You'd do anything to get a soul mate back, right? ... I mean, that's the nature of soul mates.

I had seen the light, come to believe that a wedding should be about a feeling between two people, not a show for the masses ... It was a magical, romantic evening, and although I occasionally wish I had worn a slightly fancier dress, and that Nick and I had danced on our wedding night, I have no real regrets about the way we chose to do things.

I think of how emotions seem so magnified when you're a child.
Joy is more all-encompassing, disappointments more crushing, hope more
palpable.

When you are in a relationship, you are aware that it might end. You might grow apart, find someone else, simply fall out of love. But a friendship isn't a zero-sum game, and as such, you assume that it will last forever, especially an old friendship. You take its permanence for grandted, whuch might be the very thing so dear about it.

Throw in the intensity of emotions that come with that bittersweet summer sandwiched between high school graduation and the rest of your life ...

That although I love Nick, on most days I don't think he lassoed the moon

What appeals to you the most is the very thing that will drive you crazy

You know in your heart when you're doing the right thing and when you're not. And you just have to do everything you can to stay the course.

It is not what I had planned - this day, this moment, these unlikely relationships, both old and new. Yet I feel overcome with peace and certainty that, for once, I am exactly where I should be.

Things certainly aren't the way you imagine them when you're a kid and dreaming big dreams about what your life as a grown-up will look like.

Life is about the gray areas. Things are seldom black and white, even when we wish they were and think they should be, and I like exploring this nuanced terrain.

He threw in the towel before we were tested. Maybe because he didn't want to be tested. Maybe because he assumed we would fail. Maybe because, at the time, he just didn't love me enough.

It was a mistake. You didn't try to hurt anyone.

Someday being with Dex will be a distant memory. This fact makes me sad too. Its the initial stages of grief that seem to be worst but in some ways, Its sadder as time goes by and you consider how much they're missed in your life.

You see yourself as very average, ordinary. And there is nothing ordinary about you, Rachel.
(Something Borrowed)

Despite the fact that I have no regrets about how things turned out in my life, I still can't help wanting to understand my intense relationship with Leo, as well as that turbulent time between adolescence and adulthood when everything feels raw and invigorating and scary-and why those feelings are all coming back to me now.

But at the time, I honestly didn't think I was hurting anyone, not even myself. I didn't think much at all, in fact. Yes, I was gorgeous and lucky in love, but I truly believed that I was also a decent person who deserved her good fortune.

T know what they say about secrets. I've heard it all. That they can haunt and govern you. That they can poison relationships and divide families. That in the end, only the truth will set you free.

You can never be too sure when it comes to things that matter most

A bit of a dirty fighter, quick with cutting words that he later regrets and doesn't really mean. Then again, I wonder if there isn't always a grain of truth in them, somewhere

Anxiety was not an emotion I could ever remember feeling when I went out in New York, and I wondered why tonight felt so different. Maybe it was because I no longer had a boyfriend or fiance. I suddenly recognized that there was safety in having someone, as well as a lack of pressure to shine. Ironically, this had cultivated a certain free-spiritedness that had, in turn, allowed me to be the life of the party and hoard the affection of additional men ... But that had all changed. I didn't have a boyfriend, a perfect figure, or alcohol-induced outrageousness to fall back on.

His favorite quote is from Margaret Mead: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world.

It was about grace, she decides, something that has been missing from her own life ... She wants to be the kind of person who can bestow unearned kindness on another, replace bitterness with empathy, forgive only for the sake of forgiving.

And I love the beret. Just glad that it wasn't raspberry." "Or from a secondhand store," he deadpanned. "Although I would love to see you in it. And if it was warm ...

Get a load of this one ... I heard that she actually thought paparazzi was the last name of one particular Italian photographer. Apparently she said something like, 'Who is this Paparazzi guy and why didn't they arrest him years ago after he killed Princess Diana?

I had never understood what people meant when they said they'd rather be alone if they couldn't be in the right relationship. Now I got it.

Evident in every small act of kindness, it was love as a verb. Love that made me feel more complete than I had ever felt in my glamorous, Jimmy Choo filled past.

Ellen laughs, as we've both made fun of those nauseating Facebook posts that use a religious concept to justify their thinly veiled bragging.

Guilt is a supreme waste of time and energy.

And then there is our personal history. Memories only we share. Things not another living soul would understand.

I know that the problem isn't the dream per se. It was the way I felt afterward, once awake.

For true downtime, I enjoy going for light runs, having drinks with friends and going to the movies with my husband.

I find my voice and manage to say those three one-syllable words back to him. Words I haven't uttered in a very, very long time. Words that meant nothing before now.

Love as a verb. Love as a commitment.

We both have a lot of growing-up to do ... A lot of the world to see & figure out on our own.
Leo

I think my sister Daphne's obsession with having children has a lot to do with wanting to erase the pain my mother caused. On one level, Daphne's approach makes more sense. Yet the thought of a redo is not only unappealing, but terrifying. I don't want that kind of power over anyone. I don't want to be something that someone has to overcome. After all, I think everyone would agree that it's far worse to be a fucked-up mother than it is to have one.

let those surface issues go, to value content over form.

I close my eyes, wondering whether we are ever truly blindsided by misfortune. Or, somehow, somewhere, in the form of empathy or worry or a premonition deep within ourselves, do we feel it coming?

I don't break up, I trade up

Being married cuts on your freedom. Having a husband or a relationship at all puts constraints on you. by Michael.

I think to myself that when you're in love, sometimes you have to swallow your pride, and sometimes you have to fight to keep your pride. It's a balance. But when the relationship is right, you find that balance.

The whole "misery loves company"
thing never applies more than when you're breaking up. The thought that the
other person is doing fine is simply too much to bear.

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There is always something comforting about knowing that you are not alone. That
other people feel the way you do. That you are a bit screwed up, but still normal.

I once offhandedly mentioned that I wanted to pick out my own ring, something I have to look at every day, but there is something decidedly unromantic and a little bit depressing about having a symbol of love reduced to such scientific classifications - especially classifications focusing on imperfections.

You can only control your own actions. Not other people's reactions.

My head spins as I glance away, refusing to get sucked back into his gaze when so much is at risk.

I don't really know why I went to law school.

Anything worthwhile is tough.

We have no relationship without honesty. - by Claude

Love is sharing a life together

Inevitably I draw on my own relationships when I write, so if I'm writing about a fight between a husband and his wife, of course I'm going to think about a recent fight with my husband. Or if I'm writing about sisters, of course I'm going to think about my sister.

Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame
and hate. Focus my energy on something other than the ache in my heart.

The mind-blowing, ridiculous sex which was the stuff of both poetry and porn - so unlike anything else I had ever experienced before.

He was uncomplicated and upbeat and easy. At one point, I might have thought these traits made him a simpleton, but now I think they just translate to happiness.

The person who wants out of the relationship always gets her way.

I try to write about real women, real people - in other words flawed characters.

It's not about the actors, though, Peter. That's the thing. It's about the writing.

I like to match what I wear to my book jacket - it's a little bit cheesy, but it's my thing.

I'm going to keep seeing him as much as I can. We'll see what happens," I say, realizing that just "seeing what happens" is my version of "going for it.

As I've said many times, the only way to stay trim is to eat bacon.

I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to explain to Zoe one of the very saddest notions in love and life: sometimes the timing is wrong
and sometimes you realize the heart of the matter way to late in the game.

It occurs to me that she is not unique--that all women compare lives. We are aware of whose husband works more, who helps more around the house, who makes more money, who is having more sex. We compare our children, taking note of who is sleeping through the night, eating their vegetables, minding their manners, getting into the right schools. We know who keeps the best house, throws the best parties, cooks the best meals, has the best tennis game. We know who among us is the smartest, has the fewest lines around her eyes, has the best figure--whether naturally or artificially. We are aware of who works full-time, who stays at home with the kids, who manages to do it all and make it look easy, who shops and lunches while the nanny does it all. We digest it all and then discuss with our friends. Comparing and then confiding; it is what women do.
The difference, I think, lies in why we do it. Are we doing it to gauge our own life and reassure ourselves that we fall within the realm of normal? Or are we being competitive, relishing others' shortcomings so that we can win, if only by default?

A theme in a lot of my books - and in my own life - is making choices that you feel you should make, or what society wants you to make, as opposed to what is truly right for you.

His loyalty, so fierce and unwavering, makes my eyes water and heart ache.

It was the same night I gave myself to him completely, knowing that I would belong to him for as long as he wanted to keep me. And, as it turned out, even longer than that.

You can't quantify love, and if you try, you can end up focusing on misleading factors. Stuff that really has more to do with personality-the fact that some people are simply more expressive or emotional or needy in a relationship. But beyond such smokescreens, the answer is there. Love is seldom-almost never-an even proposition.

So there the two of us were. Frozen in time, living in the moment, focused only on our immediate desires. Which of course included sex. Lots and lots of it.

Cremation was definitely the way to go. It was the way I wanted to go, rather than risk the possibility of going out on a bad-hair day.

Elated.) And anytime he had to question someone's loyalty.

Whether you CAN forgive and whether you SHOULD trust.

Luck is buying a lottery ticket along with your Yoo-hoo and striking it rich. Nothing about my life is lucky- it is all about hard work, it is all uphill struggle.

Love and friendship. They are what make us who we are, and what can change us, if we let them.