Quotes from Emily Giffin

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?

Although too much time has gone by to miss her, I feel regret that I didn't maintain our friendship. Even if we no longer have much in common, we would have always had the past, which, in some ways, is just as important as the present or future.

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.

Because Marian was the love of my life. For a long time. And that's the kind of information you share when you're young and stupid and hoping that you're in something that is going to be even bigger and better than what you once lost. It's the kind of shit you waste your time thinking about. Lemme tell you -- it does no good.

I have one final hope, If I get double sixes, maybe he will change his mind, come back to me. As if to cast a magic spell, I blow on the dice just as Dex did...Just as it happened with our first roll, one die lands before its mate. On a six! I hold my breath. For a brief second, I see a mess of dots, and think I have boxcars again. I kneel, staring at the second die. It is onle a five. I have rolled an eleven, It is as if someone is mocking me, saying, Close, but no dice.

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

so much of how we see the world is a matter of interpretation. A matter of wishing and wanting and hoping rather than really deep-down believing.

Justice isn't only about what a person deserves, but also about what a person needs.

Grab his penis like this, and I guarantee, it's a done deal.

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

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.

You can't quantify love, and if you try, you can wind up focusing on misleading factors. Stuff that has 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 -even proposition. Someone always loves more.

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

Guys aren't so different from us, I think, which no matter how many times I think it will always seem like a remarkable revelation.

evident in every small act of kindness. It was love as a verb, as Rachel used to say. Love that made me more patient, more loyal, and stronger. Love that made me feel more complete than I had ever felt in my glamorous, Jimmy Choo-filled past.

What's not to love' is hardly a reason to love, she says. And the catch of your life is not the same thing as the love of your life. Be careful of that subtle but rather crucial distinction.

But now I can see that there is redemption and beauty in an accident emanating from love.

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.

As of that moment, we had a secret, and having a secret—even a little one—creates a bond between two people.

Love made things feel precarious, and, when you got right down to it, everything in life was tenuous and fleeting and ultimately tragic.

I've always loved you, and when you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as you would like them to be.'

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

They both continue to stare at each other, expressionless, motionless, in the weirdest standoff I've ever seen almost as if they're calling the other's bluff. It is the way you'd look at a perfect stranger, although if they were actually strangers someone would break down and exchange a pleasantry after such prolonged eye contact. I start to wonder if maybe I shouldn't reintroduce my own parents.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that life is fast. And it keeps speeding up. Sometimes I lose track of the season—or even the year. And we just have to make the best of it all. Our choices. Our fleeting moments together.