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We all do things we desperately wish we could undo. Those regrets just become part of who we are, along with everything else. To spend time trying to change that, well, it's like chasing clouds.
Libba Bray
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Libba Bray
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: March 11
Novelist
Writer
Texas
United States
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Part
Chasing
Change
Clouds
Wells
Regret
Everything
Spend
Well
Along
Trying
Wish
Undo
Things
Else
Regrets
Time
Become
Desperately
More quotes by Libba Bray
No one can steal our dream.
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We have work to do if you are not to be a total failure like high-waisted, acid-wash jeans.
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I can see his pain, see it in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, over and over, and I understand what it costs him to hide it all.
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We're all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away--our stories. I guess that's what I love about books--they are thin strands of humanity that tether us to one another for a small bit of time, that make us feel less alone or even more comfortable with our aloneness, if need be.
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There were few things worse than being ordinary, in Evie’s opinion. Ordinary was for suckers.
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The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, taking it over.
Libba Bray
The mere suggestion of fame and fortune casts a glamour all its own. It is rather alarming how quickly people will turn someone else's fiction into fact in order to support their own fictions of themselves.
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Or perhaps it is some combination of spirit and desire, love and hope, some alchemy that we each possess and can put to use, if we first know where to look without flinching.
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Tell my brother to remember his heart in all things. That is where his honor and his destiny will be found. Tell him.
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On the Bowery, in the ornate carcass of a formerly grand vaudeville theater, a dance marathon limps along. The contestants, young girls and their fellas, hold one another up, determined to make their mark, to bite back at the dreams sold to them in newspaper advertisements and on the radio. They have sores on their feet but stars in their eyes.
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They swoon over Tom, who preens for them, bowing, which sets them to blushing and giggling. God help us all.
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They don't know what they're in for at Spence, getting me, a ghost of a girl who'll nod and smile and take her tea but who isn't really here.
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So much of the literature we had to read for high school English class was filled with victimized, tragic, symbolic women who spurred the plot forward with their inevitable shunning/death/shunning-followed-by-pregnancy-followed-by-death timelines.
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In each of us lie good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice... No one can live in the light all the time.
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This is the world we live in, Gemma, for better or for worse. Make of it what you can, he says, and I pull him to me.
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I know because I read...Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.
Libba Bray
But aren't many gardens beautiful because they are imperfect?...aren't the strange, new flowers that arise by mistake or misadventure as pleasing as the well-tended and planned?
Libba Bray
She bestowed the blessing of a wild girl's lips.
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To live is to love, to love is to live.
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Evie didn’t mind yelling, but she hated feeling judged. It got under her skin and made her feel small and ugly and unfixable.
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