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I run after her, not really giving chase. I’m running because I can, because I must. Because I want to see how far I can go before I have to stop.

Libba Bray

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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
Chase
Stop
Running
Must
Giving
Really
Life

More quotes by Libba Bray

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There was something about the island that made the girls forget who they had been. All those rules and shalt nots. They were no longer waiting for some arbitrary grade. They were no longer performing. Waiting. Hoping. They were becoming. They were.
Libba Bray
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Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.
Libba Bray
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It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for her future husband.
Libba Bray
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He took comfort in the neon signs, the wild strands of jazz creeping out of clubs whenever happy swells of people pushed through the doors in their finery.
Libba Bray
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The world is only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your little cave, that's one less fighter on the side of fair.
Libba Bray
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I don't have time to feel sorry for myself. I've got to think.
Libba Bray
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Agent Jones held Sinjin’s face in his hands. “I’m going to make balloon animals. People need balloon animals.” “How right you are, strange delusional man,” Sinjin said.
Libba Bray
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Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they've fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don't know when or how the change took place.
Libba Bray
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A man bumps me on his busy way without so much as an apology. But that is all right. I forgive you, busy man about town with the sharp elbows. Hail and farewell to you! For I, Gemma Doyle, am to have a splendid Christmas in London town. All shall be well. God rest us merry gentlemen. And gentlewomen.
Libba Bray
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I wonder how many times each day she dies a little.
Libba Bray
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You are working up to Mr. Fantastic Fiction levels of Zombie Expert, which is like playing Guitar Hero on some level that actually melts the guitar controller, burning your fingers with searing hot plastic till you scream in pain. Only with words. And zombies.
Libba Bray
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She smiled as sweetly as a show poster for the glorified, all-American Ziegfeld girl just before dumping her second cigarette into Wally’s fresh cup of coffee.
Libba Bray
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Warning: If you are insufferable, do not walk here. We shall eat you down to the marrow.
Libba Bray
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Reason was for suckers and Presbyterians.
Libba Bray
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I should never be left alone with my mind for too long.
Libba Bray
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Why should we girls not have the same privileges as men? Why do we police ourselves so stringently- whittling each other down with cutting remarks or holding ourselves back from greatness with a harness woven of fear and shame and longing? If we do not deem ourselves worthy first, how shall we ever ask for more?
Libba Bray
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It's always darkest before the ultimate sparkle.
Libba Bray
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Board the cows! We've come to enslave your marigolds.
Libba Bray
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They swoon over Tom, who preens for them, bowing, which sets them to blushing and giggling. God help us all.
Libba Bray
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Prepared to fly, even if she has to loose her legs to do it
Libba Bray